Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoebe
by LegendaryArimaspi
Summary: HBP AU: Harry finally breaks through the Love Potions and Obliviations, and fights the war without taking prisoners or being lied to by Dumbledore. HP/DG, NL/TD, DM/SB, BZ/HA. Grey!Harry. Selective Weasley Bashing, Hermione Bashing, slight Dumbledore Bashing. Sirius lived, Kingsley died at DoM, Hufflepuff's Cup isn't a horcrux; M due to language/violence. Formerly 50 Shades of Blue
1. Chapter 1 - Ruining the Plan

**Disclaimer: **All rights go to J.K. Rowling. All characters belong to her, only the plot is mine. The first 3 paragraphs belong to "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" © 2005 J.K. Rowling.

50 Shades of Blue

Chapter 1 – Ruining the Plan

* * *

_Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her. _

_After several long moments — or it might have been half an hour — or possibly several sunlit days — they broke apart. The room had gone very quiet. Then several people wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. Harry looked over the top of Ginny's head to see Dean Thomas holding a shattered glass in his hand, and Romilda Vane looking as though she might throw something. Hermione was beaming, but Harry's eyes sought Ron. At last he found him, still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second they looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean, Well—if you must. _

_The creature in his chest roaring in triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which — if they had time — they might discuss the match. _

Harry was over the moon; he could never imagine feeling this amount of passion and love until now. He looked over at Ginny while holding her close to him, and pressed his lips up against hers once again. They began to walk down the halls, their lips meeting in a glorious demonstration of their unending love for each other.

And then the shit hit the fan.

A small, cold hand hit Harry directly in the cheek. He looked over and saw a beautiful young witch, with long dark hair and unforgiving hazel eyes that seemed to promise pain to Harry. He recognized her by her green robes as a Slytherin from his own year, Tracey Davis.

"How could you?" She screamed. "Daphne put her trust in you, and this is how you repay her?!" Harry had a confused look on his face as she smacked him again, before running off in the direction of the dungeons.

_What does she mean about Daphne putting her trust in me?_ He thought. _Come to think of it, _who_ is Daphne?_ Ginny pressed up against him again, searching for another kiss, but the boy-who-lived stopped her, saying, "I need to go back to my dorm. Snape's detention was horrid…I'm exhausted right now. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Ginny giggled, "Why don't you sleep with me, silly?"

"Uh…I er…I really just need to think some things through right now," he stuttered back, before sprinting back to the Gryffindor common room.

Ginny was furious. _That bitch just won't let me have what's mine, will she? I'll show her!_ She thought, laughing maniacally in a now abandoned corridor of Hogwarts.

Tracey was in a murderous mood. She had just seen her best friend's boyfriend of several years cheating on her with the filthy harlot known as Ginevra "Ginny" Weasley. She walked up to the dungeons, savouring the soft green glow caused by the Black Lake above, and stated, "_Colubra_", the Latin term for "serpent", before barrelling inside and up the stairs to the girls dorms.

She quickly found the object of her journey, laying on her back on her bed, her blond hair tucked behind her as she reviewed her most recent Transfiguration essay – a 24 inch essay from McGonagall about animagi.

"Daphne! I can't believe it! I saw that hussy Weaslette making out with Potter – your Potter! Are you gonna use that neutering charm we learned over the summer?" she asked eagerly.

Daphne replied with a befuddled look. "No, why would I care about who Potter is dating?"

"Because he's your boyfriend dummy!" Again, she was rewarded with a look of confusion.

"Since when am I dating Potter? I would never associate myself with a foolish Gryffindor like himself!" Daphne replied, haughtily and indignant.

"Ok, cut the shit Daphne. Is this some kind of bad joke planned by you and Potter, or do you seriously have no idea what I'm talking about?"

"I seriously have no idea what the hell you're on about, Trace. Now if you don't mind, I have an essay to finish," she responded. As far as Daphne was concerned, she hadn't talked with the Gryffindor Golden Boy…well…ever. She couldn't remember a single moment in which they talked to each other. Sensing something was wrong, as she had Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Potions with the Gryffindors, making it nigh on impossible to have never talked with him in their 6 years of learning, she asked, "Why? Have I actually been dating him?"

"Yes!" her friend replied, exasperated. "Here, lets go to the Hospital Wing, maybe Pomfrey can see what's wrong with you. While we're at it, we should probably bring lover boy down there next time we see him, he had the same look of confusion that you had."

**Hospital Wing, Hogwarts**

Poppy Pomfrey was just turning off the lights in the Infirmary when two Slytherins walked in at a brisk pace. "What can I do for you, my dears?", she asked, wondering what would bring two of the best students in 6th year to her office at 11:30 p.m.

Tracey took over, replying "We need you to check Daphne. She has memory loss from since third year, so is their anything you can do?" Daphne just stood there, trying to remember what could be so important that she had forgot it.

Madam Pomfrey quickly cast some rudimentary spells over her, and gasped.

"What is it, Professor?" questioned Daphne hopefully.

"It seems that you have been obliviated several times, my dear", she responded in a motherly tone. Daphne was outraged that someone would do that to her, a member of a reasonable powerful house in the Wizengamot, no less.

Worried that she may never get these memories back, Daphne asked, "Is there any way I can get these memories back?"

Pomfrey looked back at her kindly, before answering. "I'm afraid that's beyond my skill set. I can arrange for you to be sent to St. Mungo's at your earliest time, would that be okay?"

"That would be great Professor. I'm free whenever. If you wouldn't mind, could you get Potter down here too, I believe he may have the same issues," the young Greengrass responded gratefully.

"Of course, dear. I can get a representative here within a few minutes to bring you down. I'll have Potter down in a few minutes." The motherly healer then Floo'ed St. Mungo's, who agreed to send down a healer who would bring the students back, before finding her old friend, Minerva McGonagall.

Upon reaching her office, she knocked on the door. "Enter," she heard from the other side.

Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor and animagus, sat behind her large, mahogany desk, composing a stern glare for whatever miscreant was in the halls this late. Once she saw her old companion, she relaxed. "What is it, Poppy?"

"Miss Greengrass and Miss Davis appeared at my office a few minutes ago, asking for me to check Daphne's memories, and I found several obstructions. She has been obliviated several times, for at least three years," she said hurriedly.

"What's this got to do with my Lions, Poppy?" the Deputy-Headmistress replied impatiently.

"I was just getting to that, Minerva," she replied, annoyed. "Miss Davis feared that Mr. Potter may have suffered the same treatment." Her long time friend showed rage on her face at the thought of this happening to one of her students, and promised that she would get her personal favourite student down to the Infirmary as soon as she could.

**Hospital Wing, Hogwarts (15 minutes later)**

A quarter of an hour later, Harry Potter stood awkwardly at the entrance to the Hospital Wing. It was a place he remembered all too well; he had spent far too much time in hear. "Madam Pomfrey, it seems circumstances always cause me to end up here," he said jokingly.

"Indeed they do, Mr. Potter. I'm just quickly going to check if you have had any memory charms placed on you," she replied in the same manner.

The Chosen One simply nodded his head mutely, before taking in his surroundings. He saw the girl, Tracey, who had slapped him earlier, seemingly without reason, and saw the new addition of a plaque over one of the hospital beds. Scrutinizing it further revealed that it stated, _Harry James Potter._ Harry chuckled to himself; Madam Pomfrey had promised to have a sign over a bed declaring it his, as he seemed to spend more nights in the infirmary than in his dorm, and it seemed she had actually stayed true.

His eyes continued to roam the room, until the landed on a pair of blue. Every moment they seemed to change; one moment they would be Maya blue, than royal blue, before suddenly becoming a sapphire colour. The girl had long, blond hair, and a body that he could tell most teenage boys would be ogling. To his own surprise, he managed to keep his mouth from hanging open, and the girl seemed to be shocked by his respect for her body, before sending him a grateful look.

"Uh huh…I see…well Mr. Potter, it looks like you have also been Obliviated consistently for a long period of time. Not only that, but it appears that you have been dosed heavily on amortentia, from first glance, it seems to be keyed towards Miss Weasley," Pomfrey informed him.

The raven haired wizard protested violently. "With all due respect, Madam Pomfrey, there is no way that that could be true! I love Ginny, I always have and I always will!"

However, even as he vehemently denied the allegations, he remembered a similar reaction from Ron earlier in the year, when his red haired best mate was dosed with the same Potion, to believe that he was in love with Romilda Vane. In comparison to Ron, who had gone so far as to clock him in the side of his head when he spoke against Romilda, his reaction had been positively tame.

So why, then, did he still have a tug in his heart towards Ginny? On one hand, the theory was proved by his sudden, inexplicable feelings towards her; after all, he barely knew her, and now he had a monster in his chest? Was this monster Amortentia?

Perhaps he was simply stronger, magically and mentally, than Ron, and that was why he knew that his love for Ginny may be somewhat false? Maybe Professor Snape's petty Occlumency lessons were better than nothing, and allowed him to realize his lack of love for Ginny? Or perhaps, even stranger, he held a pure, unadulterated love for someone else, which aided him in rationalizing his feelings towards Ginny and this mystery girl?

Harry's jaw was now on the ground in shock that his memories could have been tampered with, and that his feelings for Ginny may have all been fabricated. He couldn't help but feel disbelief that these emotions were all false, but he had learned after six years worth of trips to the infirmary to not doubt Madam Pomfrey, so he decided to at least give this crazy theory a chance.

He was still trying to comprehend what may have happened, when suddenly a middle aged woman that he had never seen before entered the room. She had curly brown hair and rosy cheeks, complemented by light hazel eyes.

She brought a syringe out of pocket and said, "This is a portkey that will take you directly to St. Mungo's, where we can retrieve most, if not all, of your memories."

The two Slytherins and the Gryffindor Golden Boy grabbed onto the portkey, before the world spun and the Slytherin Ice Queen, Daphne Greengrass, found herself, her best friend Tracey Davis, and a nurse standing in the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

They looked around for Harry, and heard a groan.

Directing their glances downwards, they saw Harry lying on the ground, muttering, "I bloody hate portkeys."

* * *

**A/N: This is my first attempt at a story, so please don't be too harsh. I will try to update at least once a week, but I make no promises. Dumbledore will only be slightly bashed, but he will try to resolve his conflicts with Harry. Thanks for reading.**

_Edited: 08/04/2013_


	2. Chapter 2 - Memories

**Disclaimer: **All rights go to J.K. Rowling. All characters belong to her, only the plot is mine.

Chapter 2 – Memories

**St.**** Mungo's**

A strange collection of people sat huddled together in a room inside of St. Mungo's, sitting on clearly uncomfortable seats, awkwardly observing the two teens lying unconscious on their beds. Outside, the rain lashed against the windows, furthering the already gloomy mood.

Looking through the window, a casual observer would be able to see a strange sight – a large, black dog sitting on its haunches, staring into the room with an uncanny air of intelligence, its bright green eyes reflecting its compassion and care towards the sleeping male.

Several figures sat on the small chairs. The first was Minerva McGonagall, an elderly woman with a green cloak, dark hair combed into a tight bun, and stern, remarkably feline eyes. If one looked behind her cool façade, they would see her deep worry for the young man, one of her admittedly favourite students. One's first impression of this woman would be a wish not to cross her; many a student had learned this the hard way.

To her left sat a sprightly middle aged man named Nicholas Greengrass. He was the father of the young woman who lay on one of the uncomfortable, lumpy hospital beds, and his warm, blue eyes displayed his worry for his daughter, as did the bags under his eyes. Further to his left sat his wife, Diana Greengrass, a blonde witch who had deep grey eyes, and, despite her outer look of calm, was deeply concerned for the fate of her eldest daughter.

The comatose woman seemed to be in her mid-teens, and was very beautiful. She was the image of perfection, with flawless white skin, rosy cheeks, and plump lips. The male was exceptionally scrawny, and wore broken glass, and a strange, lightning shaped scar rested on the middle of his forehead.

Both figures, while seeming rather calm on the outside, were feeling very turbulent emotions on the inside. They were both going through their memories, and it seemed as though a dark veil was being removed from an unfortunately large amount of their minds.

**Harry's Subconscious**

A young Harry Potter lay, once again, in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Despite having only attended the esteemed school for two years, he had made more visits and spent more time with the fretting matron than he cared to remember.

Suddenly, he noticed a group of people enter the wing; from the colour of their robes, they were Slytherins. Unconsciously, he shrank into himself, figuring that if he attracted their attention, they may attack him for his actions against the Basilisk. The group consisted of a black male in his year, a well built boy who was very potent at Charms and Transfigurations, named Blaise Zabini if he remembered correctly. Next to him was a dark haired girl who seemed like she would grow into a beautiful witch, named Tracey Davis. Rounding out the group was a stunning blonde with blue eyes that seemed to change every moment, as if Harry were looking into a blue tinted kaleidoscope, and another girl who looked like a younger version of her.

The older blonde, Daphne Greengrass, stepped forward. "Hey, Potter," she started softly. The boy looked up with a look of caution on his face, clearly affected by her green and silver robes. "What happened down there…in the Chamber?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said quietly, before turning around and pretending to fall asleep. However, Daphne was soon able to coax him out of his shell and explain to him that his misconception regarding Slytherins was not completely true.

"Myself, my sister, Astoria, and my best friends Tracey and Blaise – you know them right? – we all completely disagree with all of that pureblood supremacy bullshit. Matter of fact, that was what got me sent down just now, a bad confrontation with Pansy," she stated, trying to clear up the awkwardness.

Now that Harry paid attention, he noticed a bandage on Tracey's nose, and Daphne was walking with a slight limp. "Oh … well I'm sorry then, I didn't know that," he apologized. "Friends?" he asked hopefully.

It tore Daphne apart, realizing just how unfounded Professor Snape's accusations regarding Harry's arrogance were. It was obvious to her that he hadn't had a lot of friends in his youth, and she wanted to change that – she wanted to make him trust others, to have fun, and to learn to love.

The next memory was during his third year. Daphne entered the library alone, making sure to keep quiet, for fear of incurring the rage of Madam Pince, the hawk-like Librarian. As she moved to sit down at an empty desk, she noticed motion near the back of the library. Upon further checking, she noticed that it was her secret friend, Harry Potter.

She sat down next to him, and the sudden THUD of her textbooks clashing against the table startled him out of his reverie, while somehow not drawing the attention of the Librarian. "Oh, hey Daph," he said, addressing her by the nickname that he knew she abhorred. However, he did not know that secretly, she liked it, because it demonstrated to her that he cared enough about her to have a nickname for her.

Instead of telling him all of this, she growled, before answering, "Hey to you too, Potter." He looked at her with a mixture of amusement and slight fear; amusement because he enjoyed using her nickname to anger her, and fear because he knew by now to be wary of her anger. However, the look on his face seemed so hilarious, yet adorable, to her, that Daphne didn't even realize that she was leaning in until their lips brushed.

After that, they began a secretive relationship, only meeting in secluded corners of the Library, or abandoned classrooms, or the occasional sudden encounter in a broom closet, which always led to passionate snogging.

Then the memory changed to the Yule Ball from their fourth year. At 11:45, their appointed meeting time, she excused herself from her dance with Aleksandar Raputov, a boy who attended Durmstrang. A moment later, she saw Harry, her secret boyfriend, do the same with his date, Parvati Patil.

They met up in an abandoned area of the courtyard, in a discreet enough place so as not to be seen, and yet still hear the raucous music of the Weird Sisters and laughter caused by the rowdy congregation of teenagers. The moment they came across each other, they pressed their lips to one another's, before slowly dancing to the music. Their dance slowly became more and more passionate and intimate, until the memory dissolved.

Harry appeared in a large room full of practise dummies and cushions, slowly escorting everyone out of the Room of Requirement. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he watched Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, two of his "students" who had been social outcasts prior to this year, but had excelled under his tutelage. Finally, he was left alone, under the pretense of wanting to read up on some new defensive methods.

The moment the last member of "Dumbledore's Army" walked out, Daphne stepped out from under his Cloak of Invisibility, and placed her arms around his neck, snogging him furiously. It had become part of their routine to meet secretly after Harry's D.A. meetings had been adjourned, as Daphne, in her fear of Voldemort's impending attack on Harry, had wanted more and more time alone together.

Implementing the magic of the room, Harry quickly banished all of the Defence objects, and changed the room so that it was smaller, with only a comfortable bed and candles all around. Daphne had long ago realized the constant danger Harry was in, and decided that she wanted him to claim her as his now, before the Dark Lord could kill him.

And so, giving in to his hormonal teenage desires, he made passionate love to her.

The next year, they finally went public regarding their relationship.

As everyone was seated at the Great Hall, Harry walked over to the Slytherin table, eliciting gasps from the Lions and glares from the Snakes – what else is new? – and kissed Daphne quietly, before walking back to his seat. His actions had the intended message – he and Daphne were officially an item, and no one was to mess with her.

Unfortunately, the reactions from his friends were less than pleasant. Ron refused to talk to him for "consorting with the enemy", his failed tactic to discourage Hermione from spending time with Victor Krum; Hermione, who he thought would be happy for him, seemed livid, perhaps just for withholding information from her; and Ginny glared at him so furiously, that if looks could kill, he'd have been killed, resurrected, and then killed again…and again…and again. He had really hoped that she would have gotten over her childhood crush on him, but apparently not even Dean Thomas could get in the way of that.

One day, before they parted ways to go to their separate Common Rooms, Harry leaned in and whispered, "I love you." Daphne's eyes widened in shock, before expressing the same sentiment, and snogging him furiously. Unfortunately, that was the last thing they did or said together, because at that moment, they heard a curiously familiar voice whisper, "Obliviate," and then they knew no more.

Surprisingly, not all of Harry's memories that had been blocked concerned Daphne. A noticeable portion also involved…Draco Malfoy? These memories detailed an unlikely friendship even more secretive than his relationship with Daphne, involving summer trips to Malfoy Manor during the summer, before his now traditional trips to the Burrow.

From the memories, it seemed that after their duel in front of Gilderoy Lockhart, their egotistical and incapable D.A.D.A teacher, and Severus Snape, that they formed a respect for each other, which led to their sudden friendship. Of course, both agreed to pretend to hate each other, or else there would be hell to pay for the Slytherin and Gryffindor seekers becoming good friends.

Indeed, Harry seemed to have a completely new life. He had a beautiful girlfriend, and a best friend that he thought he hated. It looked like he would have a lot of explaining to do to Draco when he confronted him for giving him the cold shoulder recently.

**St.**** Mungo's**

The congregation was beginning to get weary, when they were startled by sudden movement. A masculine voice groaned, before muttering something along the lines of, "But I don't wanna go to breakfast right now, 'Mione." After a gentle slap on the shoulder by his Head of House, he finally began to get up.

His head roved around the room, taking in the unfamiliar characters, before noticing the Grim outside. He gave a gentle smile, so as to reassure his godfather without bringing explicit attention towards the Azkaban refugee, before finally landing on the now rousing figure of his love.

His eyes widened and he gulped audibly, not sure how to approach this. What if she doesn't remember who I am anymore? he asked himself.

However, and rather luckily, it seemed his fears were unfounded. As she opened her deep blue eyes, a look of adoration and love was the dominant expression on her face as their eyes met, and soon they found themselves in front of each other, as if attracted by a magnet.

As they began to snog, they were rudely interrupted by a loud cough, and they looked to see a rather coy smile on the face of Nicholas Greengrass. "Good morning."

**Gryffindor Common Room**

Ronald Weasley masked his impatience with a look of concern as he failed to rouse his "best friend", Harry Potter. He kicked the lump on the other boy's bed; however, instead of the grunt of pain he was expecting (and rather looking forward to), he was rewarded with the blankets giving in as the pillow positioned to look like a boy moved over.

A look of surprise flitted across his eyes, before he carefully repositioned his face of polite concern, and descended down the stairs to converse with his real best friend and secret girlfriend, Hermione Granger.

Harry wasn't the only one who could keep secrets. And when he returned from wherever the hell he had ventured to this time, Ron would show him who the _real_ Alpha male in Gryffindor House was.

"Hey Herms," he said, addressing the beautiful bushy haired bookworm, "any idea where that idiot Potter is now?"

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who added this story to their alerts/favourites, it really helps my confidence. Please Review to let me know how you think this is. Next Chapter will be Gringotts and the inevitable confrontation with his "friends".**


	3. Chapter 3 - Inheritance

**Disclaimer: **All rights go to J.K. Rowling. All characters belong to her, only the plot is mine.

**A/N: I just wanted to add a few things that I had forgotten in the Vaults scene and after. **

* * *

Chapter 3 – Inheritance

**Headmaster's Office: Hogwarts**

Albus Dumbledore rested in his chair, mulling over everything that had occurred. A plethora of feelings washed over him: happiness that his plan was working, sadness for the price that had to be paid, and guilt.

Guilt for the way he had treated the son of two of his best friends. Guilt for sending a young boy to a house where he knew he would be treated badly, for the "greater good." Guilt for actually paying people to pretend to be the boy's friends. Guilt for forcibly removing him from an apparently happy relationship with a very intelligent witch.

* * *

**St.**** Mungo's**

After Nicholas and Diana Greengrass introduced themselves, and Nicholas attempted to give Harry a stern "don't-hurt-my-daughter" talk (which ultimately failed due to his inability to keep a straight face), the awkward feeling that pervaded the air was quickly cleared up.

Once he assured the two adult Greengrass' that he had no sinister plans for their daughter, Harry and Daphne were quickly let out of the hospital. A medi-witch performed some rudimentary spells to make sure everything was all right with the young couple, and then the seething pair exited the incognito hospital.

They emerged into Diagon Alley, and said their goodbyes to the three adults that had accompanied them. Harry smiled at the shaggy dog that walked by, assuring his godfather that he was perfectly fine; a gesture that was not lost on the blue-eyed beauty next to him. "What are you smiling at, Harry?"

"What?" he asked, surprised by the question. He realized that, despite having told Daphne of Sirius' innocence, they still had yet to be introduced properly. "Oh, yeah, this is my friend Snuffles." He gave her a meaningful jerk of his head to signal to turn into an abandoned alleyway.

Daphne gave him an irritated look, which Harry redirected to the dog. "Daphne, this is my godfather, Sirius Black." For a moment, Daphne thought this was some kind of bad joke, until the dog began to change into a thin man with long, shaggy black hair that was reminiscent of his dog form.

"Hey Dogfather. What's up?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

Sirius gave him an amused smirk at the nickname, before replying, "Well Pup, I heard that my godson was in the hospital and decided to check on you. Is there something wrong with being concerned?"

"No, of course not. I'm fine, by the way. Just Obliviated and given a rather unhealthy dose of Amortentia, but that's all cleared up," he replied quickly.

Sirius was outraged, but decided to keep quiet for now. "And who is this lovely young lass over here?" he asked, with a gesture towards a blushing Daphne.

"Sirius, this is Daphne Greengrass," he replied with an elaborate gesture.

"Ah," Sirius commented, "this is the famous Lady Greengrass that my godson never shuts up about." This of course, caused both members of the young couple to blush, which led to the fugitive's raucous laughter.

"So anyways," Daphne said, changing the conversation, "we were just going to walk around Diagon Alley for a bit. Want to come with, Lord Black?"

Sirius chuckled, and said, "That's Sirius to you, Ms. Greengrass."

"Only if you call me Daphne."

"Fine. How about we go to Gringotts? Harry can check on everything and maybe figure out who's been doing this to him," Sirius suggested. The two teens acquiesced, and soon arrived in front of the large Wizard Bank.

They ignored the sign warning them of impending doom if they attempted to steal anything from the vaults below, and walked forward confidently to the first free clerk they could find, a gnarled Goblin with sharp canines named Sharptooth, if his badge was anything to go by.

"Hello Master Goblin," Harry said respectfully, "I wish to visit the Potter Vault Manager please." The Goblin seemed surprised at the show of respect to him, as most Wizards were arrogant and rude towards them.

"One moment, please," he replied, before calling for Griphook.

The old deformed Goblin that Harry remembered from his first visit came to the desk after a few moments. "Mr. Potter and friends, follow me." He took them through the Bank past a few chambers underground before stopping in front of a large mahogany door with an insignia of a Griffin accompanied by a sword crossed with a staff over his head and between his wings. "Mr. Potter, please place your hand over your family crest for entrance. This is to ensure that you are who you claim to be."

After a moment of hesitation and an encouraging look from Daphne, Harry did as he was told. The door opened with barely a creak and opened to reveal a grand desk with several seats in front of it.

Griphook sat behind the desk and fingered a few papers while the Wizard and Witch sat down. The dog transformed into Sirius, knowing that the Goblins cared not for Wizarding law, and sat down next to his godson.

"So Mr. Potter," Griphook began, "What do you wish to speak about?"

Sirius intervened, stating, "To start, I would like to emancipate my godson, as his magical guardian."

Griphook seemed to consider for a moment, before saying, "Very well. Mr. Potter, Lord Black, please fill out these forms." He gave them several scrolls and a red quill.

"Do I have to use that quill, Master Griphook? I have had an…uncomfortable…encounter with those quills before," Harry pleaded. He still had scars from the previous year's detentions with the toad Umbridge.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Potter. Standard Gringotts conditions, the blood will make the emancipation irreversible." Harry sighed, but acquiesced and signed all the forms. Sirius cast a quick Healing Charm on both of them.

"Well, now that that has been cleared up, Lord Potter, here is the Potter ring," Griphook stated, handing Harry a ring that contained the Potter insignia. As Harry placed the ring on his ring finger, a light flashed around him.

After a moment, the light disappeared, leaving Harry behind. He squinted for a moment, before taking off his glasses to check if they were dirty. Suddenly, his vision cleared. He frowned for a moment in confusion, before realizing that his vision had improved drastically. He tossed the glasses onto the desk, and realized that his body had filled out. Sixteen years of Durzkaban had caused the Boy-Who-Lived to be quite malnourished, but that was all gone now.

"Wicked," he commented in awe.

Daphne looked at him with pride, love, and a hint of lust; Sirius observed with a smirk of pride after noticing Daphne's look; and Griphook merely smirked at the young boy's look of awe. "This ring will also work as defensive against mental attacks, potions that could cause you harm, and most spells will be weakened or deflected. On to the next order of business Mr. Potter, I assume you wish to see the full Potter Vault now that you are officially an adult? First we will have to see your ancestry," he added, after seeing Harry's nod of affirmation.

He took out a bejewelled knife and an empty sheet of parchment. He motioned towards Harry to make a shallow cut on his palm, which the Chosen One did. Once a few drops of blood spattered onto the parchment, he healed himself, and the blood formed the words:

_Harry James Potter_

_Son of James Charles Potter (deceased Oct. 1981) and Lily Potter-Evans (deceased Oct. 1981)_

_Heir to the Peverell Vault_

_Heir to the Potter Vault_

_Heir to the Black Vault_

_Heir to LeFay Vault_

_Animagus Affinity_

**_Peverell Vault_**

_12 000 000 Galleons_

_1056 Sickles_

_345 Knuts_

_Assorted books, jewels, and weapons_

**_Potter Vault_**

_34 000 000 Galleons_

_978 Sickles_

_210 Knuts_

_25% Daily Prophet_

_Assorted books, jewels, and weapons_

**_Black Vault_**

_50 000 000 Galleons_

_2479 Sickles_

_390 Knuts_

_26% Daily Prophet_

_Assorted books, jewels, and weapons_

**_LeFay Vault_**

_20 000 000 Galleons_

_5847 Sickles_

_575 Knuts_

_ Assorted books, jewels, and weapons_

Harry nearly fainted at the amount of money he had; close to 116 million galleons. "Are you serious?" he asked.

"No, I am," replied Sirius with a smirk.

Harry gave him a mock glare. Daphne, however, had a look of apprehension on her face. "Master Goblin, does this mean that Harry will have to take four wives to carry on all of these lines?" Harry's eyes widened in fear, and he immediately moved to comfort his love.

Griphook merely chuckled. "Did Harry's father have three wives; Potter, Peverell, and LeFay? Of course not. These lines have all been assimilated into the Potter line; the different Vaults are merely a formality. Harry will only need a second wife if the Black line ends without Sirius having a child. You are not infertile, are you Lord Black?"

Harry almost laughed at the scandalous look on Sirius' face. "Of course not!" he replied indignantly.

"Then Lady Greengrass, you shall be Lord Potter's only wife," Griphook stated.

Daphne looked relieved, and curled up next to Harry. "Very well," Harry said, having recovered enough to compose a sentence. "Could I also see any transactions in my Vaults?"

Griphook handed him another sheet of parchment. Daphne read over Harry's shoulder:

**_Potter Vault Withdrawals_**

_500 Galleons monthly to Molly Prewitt-Weasley for 6 years_

_500 Galleons monthly to Ronald Bilius Weasley for 6 years_

_500 Galleons monthly to Hermione Jean Granger for 6 years_

_1 Marriage Contract to Ginevra Molly Weasley _

By the end, both Harry and Daphne were fuming. They should have seen something like this coming; Dumbledore was Harry's Magical Guardian. "Master Goblin, please absolve the Marriage Contract. Also, please take back all money that has been taken from my Vault, and change the key to a hand-recognition that responds only to me," Harry ordered.

Griphook gave him an appraising look, before stating, "The Contract will be ripped up immediately, and the monetary goods will be returned with interest. Will that be all?"

"No sir, I have one final request. May I see the Vaults?"

The Goblin smirked, and said, "Of course, Lord Potter." They walked out of the Chamber and approached the steel rails and cart. As the cart sped up, Harry held onto Daphne and kissed her hair gently. Sirius looked on with pride, and thought to himself, _And he says he isn't Prongs._

Finally, they stopped in front of a large Vault with the Potter insignia on it. Below it was a peculiar image, of a triangle, with a circle inside it and a straight line going through the middle. Above the Potter insignia was a symbol of a Dragon roaring, encircled by magical creatures – Harry easily recognized a Hippogriff, a Thestral, and a Centaur. Griphook noticed his look of confusion, and clarified, "The top symbol is that of the Dark Lady, Morgana LeFay. The bottom is the Peverell symbol."

Harry nodded his understanding, before walking forward and placing his hand over the Potter insignia. He heard the whirring of locks, but the Vault did not open. He repeated the process for the other two emblems, and the Vault finally opened.

Harry gasped in astonishment. The Vault was a huge Chamber, divided into three sections, each with a badge above it. In each section was a large quantity of money, books, and jewels. In the middle section, the Potter section, a note lay on the floor. He walked over to it and opened it up. It read:

_Dearest Harry,_

_If you are reading this, that Dark Arsehole has offed us. Know that we loved you, and will never stop loving you. We hope that you grow up in a happy and loving environment, with Sirius, or Remus, or even the Bones or Longbottoms. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT live with the Dursleys. They hate magic and will make life miserable for you. We are so sorry that we could not be there for you. Stay strong, Harry._

_Love, James and Lily Potter_

By the end of the letter, tears were leaking out of Harry's eyes. He folded up the note and placed it in a pocket, before continuing to search. After a couple of hours, he finally left, taking a few hundred galleons, and some books. One was _A Study of Dark Magicks_, written by Morgana LeFay herself – he figured it was time to fight fire with fire, and another was _The Marauder's Guide to Animagus Transformation_, by his father, Sirius, Remus Lupin, and the traitor Peter Pettigrew.

Harry decided that he obviously could not trust Ron anymore, so he went to Knockturn Alley to get a lock for his trunk. One lock in particular caught his attention, a lock that responded only to Parseltongue. Realizing that this was perfect, Harry bought this, and set the pass code to _I love the Slytherin Ice Queen Daphne Greengrass_, because he knew it would be difficult for Ron to memorize the set of hisses for a code of that length.

As they left, Sirius transformed into a dog and ran off with a cheerful bark. Daphne intertwined her hands with Harry's, but Harry was too preoccupied to notice. In his mind, he was remembering a show he had watched once while in Durzkaban, something called _Sherlock_.

He began looking for who had the motive to do this to him – Crabbe, Goyle, and most of Slytherin simply because they hated him; and now Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Molly, what with the copious amounts of money they were paid to be close to him.

Then he narrowed it down, looking for the ability to do a difficult spell. That left only Theodore Nott from Slytherin, and Molly and Hermione, as Ron was as good as a Squib with most spells, and he doubted Ginny had the ability either.

Finally, he looked for the opportunity. Who had the opportunity to do this to them? That left only Hermione Jean Granger. Once he came to this conclusion, he matched her voice to the familiar Obliviator, and it fit.

They took a Portkey to Hogsmeade – where Harry predictably fell and had to dust himself off, much to Daphne's amusement – and began the walk back to Hogwarts. He would make sure they paid for what they did.

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**So…I couldn't fit in the Confrontation this chapter. But it will be next chapter, I promise!**


	4. Chapter 4 - Revenge

**Disclaimer: **All rights go to J.K. Rowling. All characters belong to her, only the plot is mine.

**A/N: I edited the last chapter to add a couple of things.**

Chapter 4 – Revenge

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**Slytherin Commons**

The Slytherin Common Room is in the dungeons of Hogwarts, and the Black Lake above it provides an ethereal green glow. The room is furnished with black chairs and couches, along with tables to write on and a fireplace at one end.

Sitting in one armchair near the flickering fire was a sixth year Slytherin with platinum blonde hair. Draco Malfoy had been very worried ever since a week ago, when he noticed his best friend, Harry Potter, and a fellow Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass, had suddenly started avoiding each other, after dating for three years. However, Draco had decided to leave it alone, figuring that they had had an argument or broken up.

Many people believed that Draco's best friends were Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. This was untrue; Draco abhorred the two fools, and only put up with them because he was actually rather insecure, and worried that someone (particularly a Gryffindor) might attack him simply for being a Slytherin, and he might need back-up.

He had befriended Harry in their second year, after their duel. Both of them had displayed magic that was well beyond the abilities of most first years – especially their then best friends; the Weasel for Harry, Crabbe and Goyle for Draco – and had begun to respect each other after that.

That year on the train ride back to London, they had run into each other, without the fools. After a few minor insults, they began chatting about nothing, and suddenly found themselves becoming great friends.

During that summer, Harry spent a week at Malfoy Manor. He had met Draco's mother, Narcissa, and his father, Lucius. Draco had been amused by his reaction to find out that Narcissa was a lovely woman, who packed a Molly Weasley-esque hug, while Lucius had been telling the truth all along.

Although many people doubted the Lord Malfoy, he had indeed been Imperiused by the Dark Lord to fund him and to serve him; the same could also be said for Draco's aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. However, Bellatrix had not only been under the Imperius, she had also been forced into a marriage contract with Rudolphus Lestrange that basically bound her will to him.

Anyways, now Draco felt incredibly guilty; he was Harry's best friend and yet he had not recognized the effects of a Memory Charm. And now, he was paying for his mistakes, as he had no clue where Daphne and Harry were, or when they would return. It was still in the early morning, before breakfast, so the Malfoy heir decided to move towards the Great Hall and act as though nothing was amiss.

Throughout the day, much to Draco's disappointment, the duo did not appear. Of course, it was a Saturday, so they had no classes anyways. This led him to believe that they either will not return until much later, or have already returned, and are spending some quality alone time.

**Great Hall [Dinner]**

By the time dinner had begun, Draco had become very worried. He shared several worried glances with Tracey Davis, a fellow Slytherin whom he knew to be good friends with Daphne. Of course, he also shared more than a few glances with a certain Hufflepuff, but those were more lustful than worried.

He had had a bit of a crush on the niece of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for some time now, especially as she was part of their secretive study group. This group consisted of Draco, Harry, Daphne, Tracey, Neville Longbottom (who had shown a surprising aptitude at Transfiguration and defensive magic ever since having obtained his own wand), and the busty red-head herself, Susan Bones.

During the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament – when all of Harry's so-called "friends" abandoned him – they had a formed a super study group, as it were, holding meetings in the Room of Requirement almost daily. They had discovered the R.O.R thanks to Dobby, the former house elf of Theodore Nott Sr., who had become fiercely protective towards Harry. Harry had merely asked for a room where they could practise without restraints, and the excitable elf brought them there.

Of course, the group also understood that they would, one day, become a political power house if they continued their friendships, and had begun to refer to it almost as a quest for world domination, but slightly more peaceful than Voldemort's attempts.

Harry, Daphne, and even the normally quiet Neville found immense pleasure in teasing Draco whenever they caught him ogling the curvaceous Puff, and now it was Tracey's turn. "Hey Drake," she began, with a nefarious Weasley-twin-grin, "Like what you see?"

Draco felt his cheeks warm, which was rather embarrassing for the usually composed pureblood. Luckily, Hogwarts' current power couple decided that then would be a good time to make their grand entrance, as the door suddenly slammed open, resulting in a resounding _BANG!_

To say that Harry and Daphne were angry about what had happened would be a gross understatement. The Slytherin Ice Queen was in full effect, her cold glare seemingly freezing students were they stood; the Gryffindor Golden Boy had a harsh anger that was completely unexpected given his nickname. Spectators would later say that this was when they believed that he turned Dark; his rage was palpable, his magic swirling around him and forcibly knocking students and teachers alike back.

All eyes were on them as Harry and Daphne stomped towards the Gryffindor table. They stopped in front of Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Ginny and Hermione had stopped eating and were looking up at Harry, while Ron was still shovelling food into his mouth.

Hermione had an innocent and questioning look, while Ginny was attempting to glare holes into Daphne's head. Harry coughed loudly, finally drawing the human garbage bin's attention. "Where the hell have-" Ron began furiously, until a wandless, ironically silent, Silencing Charm from Harry shut him up.

**Gryffindor Commons [Earlier that day]**

When Hermione also had no idea where Harry was, Ron began to worry. Not out of any fear for Harry's well-being, but because if the berk got himself offed before he was married to Ginny, then they would never gain the formidable mass in the Potter Vault. Of course, Ron had no idea at that moment how wealthy Harry really was, a fact that the boy in question would only be learning later that day.

Ron decided to check in Harry's trunk for the Marauder's Map and was rather surprised to find it. The norm would be for Harry to take the incognito parchment and his Invisibility Cloak (the presence of which was even more surprising to Ron) with him on whatever foolish, and often dangerous, task he was on.

Now Ron was beginning to think that maybe Harry had just gotten up early, so he checked the Map, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Suspiciously, Daphne was also missing, leading Ron to believe that they were spending "quality time" together in the R.O.R. However, that was cause for even greater fear, as that could mean that Harry had somehow escaped Ginny's love potion.

But how was that possible? Harry had shrugged off the Imperius Curse cast by the impostor Moody two years ago, but that was different – wasn't it? Amortentia was _the_ _most powerful_ love potion on the planet, and their Headmaster had gotten Professor Severus Snape himself to make the potion-but that was just it, wasn't it?

Snape had always hated the two youngest Weasleys, and Hermione also, he made no attempt to hide his contempt for them. But at the same time, he had also showcased his dislike for Harry, why would he try to help Potter's love life with one of his own Snakes?

Now the redhead had given himself a headache, trying to make heads or tails of this matter, so he decided to consult his beautiful girlfriend and his sister. Hermione assured him that the potion was foolproof; she had utter confidence in their Potions Master's skills and his position on the matter.

The youngest Weasley, however, had her own opinion on the matter. "Last night, while I was with Harry, about to make him mine," Ginny began tentatively, as though it were a subject she would rather not breach, "we were …interrupted… by that Slytherin bitch, Tracey Davis or something."

Hermione's eyes widened. "She's best friends with the Greengrass slag, she could have told Daphne. What if they know now?" she asked, panicked.

Ron, finally understanding, shared Hermione's worry. They eventually decided to just act normally, and see what happens from there on. Throughout the day, there was no sight of Harry, and they were convinced that Harry would be in for a large dose of amortentia when he returned.

**Great Hall [Dinner]**

When dinner came around, Harry had still not appeared. However, Hermione was sure that she knew the dramatic tendencies that her "friend" had, so she expected him to make a grand entrance in the middle of dinner. To everyone's shock but her own, exactly this happened. However, while he was in the company of the Greengrass heiress, which had been expected, the look of rage on his face was unexpected. Yes, they expected some anger for the love potion and Obliviation, but this was a new level of fury that no one had ever seen before, not even when he exploded prior to his hearing regarding the Dementors.

The only conclusion that Hermione could come to was that he had somehow discovered the theft from his Vault and Ginny's marriage contract. This theory was proven by the glint of the Potter ring on his finger; however, he had two other rings that Hermione had never heard of before.

Gasps were heard from the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables; the Claws for their uncanny ability to know even more than Hermione at times, the Snakes because they prided themselves on their ability to know everything regarding Purebloods. Hermione almost rolled her eyes when she saw that Ron was still engrossed in his plate heaped with food; she loved him, but he was a bit of a slob at times.

Finally, Harry and Daphne approached the trio angrily, and Ron finally looked up when Harry cleared his throat rather obviously.

The Great Hall was shocked by Harry's actions. Some were awed by his display of wandless and silent magic, others, that he had turned against his friends like that. Unbeknownst to all, Susan, Neville, Draco, and Tracey had a victorious look, as if saying, '_Finally!'_ or, _'It's about damn time!'_

Ron continued to rant at Harry for a few minutes, until, with a meaningful look from Hermione, he realized that he had been Silenced. This epiphany caused him to glare even more at Harry, whose own glare was easily stronger, and Ron soon looked away, cowed.

Suddenly, Harry's demeanour seemed to reach a pinnacle, and with a slash of his wand, which had appeared in his hand too fast for a normal human to see, sent a jet of light towards his former best mate.

The crowd was speechless as Ron flew several feet away, eventually hitting the wall with a crack and landing on the Slytherin table, where the nearby students jeered at him, but Harry kept his wand trained on his supposed best friend. Hermione got up in an attempt to aid her lover, but was struck down by the same Blasting Hex from Daphne. Tracey hurried over as Ginny stood up, and, unwilling to cast anything too strong without knowing why, merely Disarmed her, before sending a Banishing Hex, tossing Ginny over the Gryffindor table and onto the ground with a painful crack.

Finally, Albus too-many-goddamn-titles Dumbledore stood up and intervened. Casting a silent _Sonorus!_ he shouted immediately stopping all action, "Stop this madness!"

However, before he could continue, Harry stopped his spell, turning on the old man. "And you," he spat angrily, "You have NO right to take money from me!" The student body and teachers gasped at this, and Dumbledore's lowered gaze seemed to be a confession to those assembled.

"Please, Harry," he pleaded, "I beg of you to forgive my actions. And while I realize that all of them, as well as I, deserve several times this amount of pain, this is neither the time nor the place to seek your revenge. You may do something that you will regret for the rest of your life. So please, come with me, Miss Greengrass, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley to my office, and we can take care of this in a more peaceful manner," he ended, looking hopefully at Harry.

Harry, finally beginning to calm, nodded slowly, and took Daphne by her arm and escorted her out of the Great Hall and to the Gargoyle Statue in front of the Headmaster's Office, anxiously awaiting the old man and his explanation.

Of course, with Rita Skeeter on the loose, he could have never known the consequences of his actions.

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**A/N: Wow, I really need to stop procrastinating on my chapters and waiting until Saturdays to write it. In case you have not noticed, I have tentatively decided to upload every Saturday, so here's to that. Thanks for Reading, and please Review.**

_Edited: 08/04/2013_


	5. Chapter 5 - Forgiveness

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, would I be bashing some of the most important characters in the books? Everything belongs to J.K Rowling except the plot.

Chapter 5 – Forgiveness

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Harry and Daphne walked slowly towards the entrance to the Headmaster's Office. The only thoughts going through Harry's head were, _'The bastards deserved it. They should be glad that I didn't use anything more serious,'_ and _'Shit, shit, shit, why did I do that?'_ Daphne's mind expressed the second sentiment as well.

During their Battle in the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix had, albeit against her wishes, killed the Auror and Order of the Phoenix member Kingsley Shacklebolt. The fact that he was killed via a stunner was all the evidence needed that his death was due to an unfortunate coincidence that he fell through the Veil of Death. Bellatrix had later mocked Harry about it, and, in his anger, he had attempted the Cruciatus, but the part of him that knew her innocence held him back. Now, however, he had no such restraints.

"Lemon Sherbet," Dumbledore said calmly, his eyes a strange colour without his customary grandfatherly twinkle.

As they ascended the stairs, Harry and Daphne both saw, out of the corner of their eyes, Hermione slowly drawing her wand. _'Well, that proves my theory,'_ Harry thought. He knew that it would be a trap to accompany the Headmaster, but he was fairly confident that he and Daphne could take out Hermione and the Redheads. And Dumbledore…he doubted that the old man would attack a pair of students and future Heads of Houses.

Upon entering the Office, Daphne saw Hermione's wand pointed at Harry and almost shook her head at the Muggleborn's idiocy. Just then, several things occurred; Hermione shouted, "Obliviate!" and a beam of light aimed itself at Harry's head. Harry himself shot a silent stunner, the red beam hitting Hermione in the chest shortly after she got the spell off. Daphne screamed, "Expelliarmus!" and Hermione's wand flew out of her hand even as she began to fall, the spell stopping before it could reach Harry.

Finally, and perhaps most surprisingly, a silent Shielding Charm was cast by none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Harry gaped at the old man. Apparently, he had _not_ supported Harry's Obliviation…this time, anyways. The conqueror of Grindelwald gave the limp girl a disappointed and profoundly sad look before saying, "Enervate."

Throughout this, Ginny was gaping at Harry who still had his arm wrapped around Daphne's waist, while Ron's jaw was almost comically near the floor as he gave Dumbledore an astounded look.

He tried to stammer something out as Hermione began to rise, rubbing her forehead in confusion. Becoming aware of her surroundings, she questioned, "Professor Dumbledore…why did you stop me?"

The sad look reappeared on Albus' face, and he explained, "I am afraid that I…we have greatly wronged Daphne and Harry. As a result, I implore you to stop attempting Memory Charms or Love Potions on Mr. Potter or Miss Greengrass as the punishments would be quite severe. However, I am nothing if not fair; you shall not serve any punishments for the previous actions, as I whole-heartedly take the blame for your actions.

"Onto the next subject, Mr. Potter and Miss Greengrass, while I can not blame you for assaulting these three – hell, even I would have sent a few painful hexes at them," he continued, gesturing at the three guilty Gryffindors. All present were gaping at Dumbledore's (admittedly minor) swearing. Blissfully unaware to their astounded looks, he further stated, "I still must punish the two of you for the use of an offensive spell against another student outside of class. As it is, it will take all of my power to prevent the public to learn of these events, and I fear it will have already leaked out. The Ministry will likely attempt to punish you after the inevitable uproar.

"You two will have to serve detentions with Mr. Filch," here Harry groaned audibly, "for the next month."

The couple hung their heads in shame, understanding that they had used a Curse that could be used in a different way to kill someone. Indeed, Harry felt a jolt of self-loathing as he realized that he could have murdered the two students had they been atop a building, or if they had landed on their necks. He was no better than any of those sick Death Eaters that he was supposed to be fighting against.

Daphne looked over at him, and, seeing the look on his face, and the haunted expression in his eyes, leaned into his embrace and kissed him softly. Noticing the confused and, in Ron's case, amused, expressions at Harry's sudden depressed state, she whispered quietly into his ear, "You are better than them Harry. You will _never_ be like them; they are sick and twisted, murderers and psychopaths. You are _not_ a monster."

Seeing that the look hadn't left his eyes, she repositioned her lips and gave him a passionate kiss, not caring about the gawking looks from the Gryffindor trio or the Headmaster. When she pulled away, the eyes formerly filled with self-hatred were replaced with a dazed expression and a goofy grin.

Dumbledore had an amused look, while the others all seemed rather bewildered. "Very well, now that that's all cleared up, I believe myself and Mr. Potter have some…private business to do," he said, dismissing all but Harry.

Harry held Daphne back, saying, "Headmaster, she'll be hearing anyways, might as well save me the trouble of repeating you."

The Headmaster seemed to twitch involuntarily, before sighing. "Alright Mr. Potter-"

"_Lord_ Potter," interrupted Harry. Daphne shot him an amused look, lifting an elegant eyebrow.

Dumbledore seemed about to argue, but decided against it. "Very well, Lord Potter, I believe that it is my duty to sincerely apologize to both of you for everything that I have done and orchestrated. Now, I realize that you will not forgive my transgressions easily, nor do I expect you to: I only hope that you can bear with an old man for a little longer, and I promise you that I will explain everything to you as best as I can and I will no longer keep secrets from you."

Harry was shocked at this change in the old man. "I can forgive you, Professor, but it will take me a while to feel the same level of companionship and trust for you again, especially after you left me with the Dursleys for all of those years."

"Surely your family was not _that_ bad," Albus began, but Harry interrupted.

"The first day of school, when I was four, I was waiting for my name to be said, but I never heard it. You know why? Because I thought that my name would be with the 'F's' because my _family_ had always told me that my name was Worthless Freak, and that my parents were Freaks. And that's just the tip of the iceberg, Headmaster. You don't want me to get started on the physical abuse, or how I lived in a _fucking_ cupboard for ten years!"

Dumbledore was clearly taken aback by this. Harry continued, "So yes, Headmaster, I can forgive you, but I may never truly forget. And I will only trust you as far as I can through you."

"That is the best I could hope for," Albus replied with a warm, albeit shaky smile. "Now, as you already know, I suspect Tom of having made multiple Horcruxes; the diary that you destroyed in second year, the Gaunt ring, his snake, Nagini, the Slytherin locket, and perhaps something of relevance of Rowena Ravenclaw or Helga Hufflepuff. I believe that I have located the locket; in a deserted cave in England. Perhaps you know of what I speak, Lord Potter?"

Harry thought for a moment, racking his brains for a memory of the young Riddle and a cave. There was a flicker of remembrance in his mind, but he could not quite remember it. Luckily, Daphne spoke up, "The one near the Orphanage, where he scared the other children?" she asked.

The aged Headmaster was momentarily taken aback, before remembering that Harry had said he told Daphne everything. "Correct, Lady Greengrass," he said, nodding wisely. "The area will be perilous to venture into, but nonetheless, I think that I can make it there. I was planning on making that little trip during the next weekend Har-Lord Potter, would you be willing to accompany me?"

Harry's eyebrows knitted together in confusion before coming to a startling conclusion: Dumbledore wanted his help on a potentially dangerous trip to kill a part of a Dark Lord's soul. His eyes widened, before he nodded enthusiastically, happy that people were finally taking him seriously and treating like the adult that he would be within a few short months.

He missed the worried look that was on Daphne's face before she hastily reconstructed her "Ice Queen" image. Harry frowned when he saw her cold expression, and held her close to him. "Do not worry Daphne, I will be very careful," he assured her. The façade suddenly broke, and she leant into his shoulder. She nodded her acquiescence, and Dumbledore took that as his sign to continue.

"Harry, this next part will change your life, and I hope you do not take any drastic measures," he pleaded. Seeing Harry's doubtful look, he sighed and continued. "The spy for Lord Voldemort, the man who told him of the Prophecy and indirectly led him to murdering your parents," he paused, judging Harry's reaction so far. Instead of the old Harry that would be on his feet by now, throwing things around and trying to find the person to kill him, he simply stared ahead, hands clenched into fists, with a cold glare. "This person was Severus Snape, your Potions Master."

Yet again, the elderly Wizard was destined to be surprised by the younger Wizard's reaction. Rather than running off to the Dungeon and confronting the man who ruined his life more than anyone save Voldemort and, ironically, perhaps Albus himself, he calmly asked, "Why?"

"Professor Snape was then a young Death Eater. He was heavily influenced by Tom Riddle, and had no idea that the Prophecy would lead him to your parents. In fact, he was in love with your mother, and came to me for help and swore fealty to me."

"No offence Professor, but rather than that comforting me, I am merely disturbed," he said. The words were humourous in nature, but the tone with which they were spoken was anything but. Harry looked at Daphne, and conceded defeat when he saw her Puppy Dog _Please-Don't-Kill-My-Head-Of-House_ look; a look which, unsurprisingly, Harry had seen far too many times before. "Fine," he acquiesced, "I won't kill Professor Snape."

Dumbledore sighed in obvious relief, and continued, "Now that that is out of the way, I must voice a rather morbid suspicion of mine." Harry raised a questioning eyebrow as he continued, "It is my fear that, when Lord Voldemort attempted to murder you, and failed, a part of himself latched on to the nearest living organism; which happened to be the small child in the room."

A tear leaked out of Daphne's eyes, as Harry said, with his calm expression betrayed by his nervous tone, "Are you saying that I am a Horcrux, Headmaster? That, in order for Riddle to die, I must sacrifice myself first?"

The sad appearance of Dumbledore gave away his answer, but he replied anyways. "That is my fear, Harry. That is why we must destroy as many of the Horcruxes as we can, and when the time comes, we can make him mortal once again. Unfortunately, this will come at your sacrifice."

Harry staggered to his feet, accompanied by his beautiful Slytherin. "Thank you Professor, for all you have said today. This does explain my connection with him that cost Kingsley his life in the Department of Mysteries last year. May we leave now; I need to…think over everything I have learned tonight."

"Of course, Lord Potter. This has been an understandably difficult experience for you and Daphne. Good night, and if you ever are in need of a Lemon Drop…" he trailed off and Harry chuckled before he bid adieu.

Instead of separating and going off to their own Common Rooms, the couple decided to spend the night in the Room of Requirement. Their sombre mood slowly evaporated, as they came to the unspoken and mutual agreement that they would spend every night together, as Harry's days were limited.

**Great Hall**

The next day, Harry and Daphne decided to unleash a new surprise on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: the public introduction of "the Think Tank," as it was coined by Tracey.

Instead of Harry and Daphne sitting together with the Lions or Snakes, they sat with Susan at the Hufflepuff table. A couple of interested looks were exchanged at this development, but their friendship was not totally unexpected, especially after the D.A.

No, the surprise came in the form of an aristocratic, haughty Slytherin sitting next to Susan. After Draco, Tracey arrived next to Daphne, leaving Neville to join moments later across from Tracey. Harry and Daphne shared an amused look; it was rather common knowledge that the usually timid Lion and the energetic Snake had feelings for each other.

The entire Great Hall erupted into whispered conversation; six of the top ten students in sixth year sitting together, especially from three different houses, was a real shock.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron Weasley's ears were reddening in anger. _'The nerve of that brat,'_ he thought, _'first he dates a Snake, and now he's friends with the bloody ferret! That traitor!'_ The rest of the House was split; one part was glad for Harry's happiness, the other half had believed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's bull fodder about what had happened during the previous night.

The Slytherin table was cool and composed, nobody really caring, although a certain pair of brutes seemed disconcerted without their leader. However, the morning's drama had yet to be completed. A flurry of owls announced the morning news, and a surprising amount of the messengers held red envelopes enclosed in their beaks or talons.

The first to arrive was to Harry, a small owl that collided into the table and upended platters full of food. It was a Howler, from Mrs. Weasley, a letter that he knew he would get. To summarize, it admonished Harry for cursing her children and Hermione. He rolled his eyes, and with a quiet, "Incendio!" the note burst into flames, halfway through the tirade.

Ron and Ginny, to their bewilderment, also got Howler's, from their father. Mr. Weasley told them off for their treatment of Harry, and the majority of the Lions that had originally supported them changed sides, giving the three disgusted looks. The letter practically disowned them and their mother, and they would have to live in poverty in a run-down old Prewitt house.

Finally, and to everyone except for Harry and Daphne's shock, Hermione received one from her parents. Harry and his girlfriend had told Sirius of the Granger's residence, and he had immediately ventured there, and explained to Mrs. and Mr. Granger what their daughter had done. Seeing their furious reactions, he aided them in making a Howler that severely rebuked and publicly embarrassed Hermione. Hermione was told that she was going to be grounded for the next summer – no books, no contact with Ron.

Finally, the Daily Prophet arrived. Harry took one look at the cover title:

_**The Boy-Who-Turned-Dark? By Rita Skeeter**_

Harry looked at the image of him cursing Ron, and Ron's prone and writhing figure on the ground. Turning to his allies and friends, he spoke with a malicious grin. "How much of the Prophet do you guys own?"

* * *

**A/N: So there's the Chapter, hope it's good. Please continue to Read and Review.**

**In response to the Guest under the name "Kenji Tarugo," I really don't care if you find this a waste of your time. If you do, then stop reading. I'm not forcing you to.**

**Finally, the full contents of the article will be published next Chapter, this felt like as good a place as any to end off on. And don't worry, Rita will face a more malicious fate. **

_Edited: 08/04/2013_


	6. Chapter 6 - Romance

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

Chapter 6 – Romance

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Daphne turned a questioning eye on her lover, as Draco grabbed his own edition of the _Prophet_ and read aloud:

_**The Boy-Who-Turned-Dark?**_

_**By Rita Skeeter**_

_Faithful readers, this reporter was able to report on an occurrence last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Harry Potter, age 12, was seen using an unidentified Curse, which I believe to have been a Dark Curse, on a fellow student, Ronald Weatherby._

_The former Tri-Wizard Champion, Boy-Who-Lived, and Chosen One entered the Great Hall during dinner, marching up to the Gryffindor table, his own house, before brutally attacking his best friend, while his much disputed girlfriend Daphne Greengrass, age 16, did the same to Hermione Granger, a former lover of Harry's. _

_What has brought this new, darker side of Harry? Has Miss Greengrass finally gotten tired of his old friends, and used her power over Harry to force him to turn against them? Is it true, as it has been commonly suggested, that she has the Saviour of the Wizarding World under the Imperius Curse, or – heavens forbid – a Love Potion? _

_Or, has the twelve year old boy finally lost control over his mental capacities, as was much suggested last year, and turned Dark? Only time will tell, and I promise you, my dear readers, that I will be the first journalist to give you all of the facts!_

_For further on Hermione Granger's relationship with Harry, go to Page 3_

"What a complete load of bollocks!" Daphne snarled, her own copy crumpling under her grip.

Harry rubbed her back comfortingly, saying, "Between my godfather and me, we have 51% of the Prophet. We can easily make this her last article. And she still has my age wrong!" he shouted, indignant.

"I can send a letter to my Gran, but I remember her saying we had close to 15 percent, I think," suggested the timid Gryffindor.

"I do hope that we do more than just fire her," began Draco haughtily, "but my father once bragged that we had around 7 percent."

"No idea, but considering that the Bones are as old as the Potters and Longbottoms, I'd say around 15 percent also," claimed Susan, smiling at Draco's arrogant demeanour. "I guess that would leave the Greengrass' and Davis' with a grand total of…twelve percent."

"Don't forget that there are other old families, like the Notts, Lestranges, and – loathe as I am to admit it – the Crabbes and Goyles," Draco drawled, wrinkling his nose.

Daphne, not willing to listen to Draco's inevitable speech about his father, interrupted; "Well now that we know that the six of us practically own the _Daily Prophet_, what next?"

"Why, my dear Daphne, now we make full use of our resources. Namely, the cunning of three Slytherins," her boyfriend replied, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Neville almost spat out his pumpkin juice, and the chestnut haired object of his hidden affections leaned across the table, revealing her ample bosom to him, and whispered to her best friend, "I think you have corrupted Harry."

Daphne mirrored her actions, causing Harry to suddenly tense up, and said, "I think you've broken Neville." Tracey turned her head slightly, and, seeing the dazed look in his eyes, decided to do something that she had wanted to do for some time now: she kissed the Shy Lion.

And so, Tracey Davis walked out of the Hall several minutes later, with the entire Hufflepuff table looking stunned, and Neville gently licking his swollen lips, testing for a final taste of Tracey's own lips.

**Gryffindor Commons**

Before going down to breakfast in the Great Hall, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny made sure that everyone believed them that Harry had turned Dark and they were innocent of any wrongdoings.

Of course, a small faction remained loyal to their Golden Boy, namely Katie Bell, Dennis and Colin Creevey, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan. Katie, having been on the same Quidditch team as Harry for six years, knew that Harry was not evil, and was prepared to wait patiently until he told her his side of the story. The Creevey brothers idolized Harry, and would never believe anything against him, and Dean had been wary of Ginny ever since she had dumped him for something as trivial as holding a door for her. Finally, Seamus had learned from his mistakes the year prior, and knew not to hold judgement against his dorm mate.

The night previous, the dastardly trio had agreed that they were not going to give up on their attempts to force Harry and his wealth into the Weasley family. Ron had originally been inclined to listen to Dumbledore, but was easily persuaded to Hermione's side.

They planned on giving an interview, perhaps to Rita Skeeter or someone else who would easily trash Harry's reputation, and thus procure the sympathy of the Wizarding World, and Harry would have no choice but to crawl back to them. Then, they would have no troubles in spiking his drinks again.

Of course, this plan depended on two things. It could easily go awry if Harry went fully Dark and turned to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or his other friends may stay with him. But then again, he had no real friends, other than the Greengrass slag, he was only occasionally seen with Tracey or sometimes even Blaise Zabini. But Daphne could be dealt with, and the other two would abandon Harry soon enough, and he would be alone again.

Yes, this plan would go perfectly.

But everything had gone to the dogs the moment they had appeared in the Great Hall. Harry had not been in the Dorms the previous night, but Ron figured the prat was just trying to avoid him, and was already in the Hall, after having barely slept the previous night, perhaps at the Gryffindor Table. He wouldn't put it past the idiot.

However, he had not been present, which had irked the trio, especially Hermione, who abhorred not knowing or being wrong about something. So it goes without saying that neither she nor the two Prewitts were overly receptive of Harry and Daphne's arrival at…the Hufflepuff table?

And then Harry had sat next to not one, not two, but _three_ Snakes – and one of them was Draco Malfoy, the git who had bullied the former Golden Trio for five years! As well as Susan Bones, who was a surprise as they could not remember Harry and the redhead ever conversing outside of meaningless pleasantries in the D.A, Neville Longbottom had decided to join in.

Neville, the shy boy who was commonly believed to be a Squib, was sitting with Draco, his most hated tormentor. This almost put Ron over the edge, but he calmed when he saw the flurry of owls. And then he had been yelled at and disowned! And those Muggles thought that they had a right to do the same to his Hermione, they'd learn their place, especially since their House was starting to give them distrustful looks, and a certain five Lions were looking rather victorious.

But his spirits were lifted at the title of the _Prophet_. Now the brat would be exposed for having gone Dark, and no one would ever disagree with Ronald Prewitt ever again: until he saw Potter's reaction, that is.

Now normally, Potter would freak out over this, start shouting, and stomp off to their Dorm, muttering about a plan for revenge that he would never get. However, the new Gryffindor Trio continued to be disappointed, as he instead leaned towards his apparent friends, and began talking in hushed tones, with a gleam in his eyes that none of them had ever seen before. This just proved to them, that consorting with Snakes resulted in becoming just like one. Hell, Ron wouldn't have been half surprised if he hadn't just stood up and revealed that he had the Dark Mark!

And then Tracey Davis, the whore who had completely fucked up their plan, had kissed Neville! Another Slimy Serpent had dug her claws into the hide of a noble Lion, and this was not going to stand among the Gryffindors. Ron exchanged looks with his lover and his now only sibling, which clearly said that those two stray Gryffindors would be taught the err of their way – or, at the very least, would forget everything that had happened.

After Tracey left a dazed Neville at the table, Blaise Zabini decided to join their merry little group of hooligans, and as he arrived he elected to drag Hannah Abbot, who had been unsuccessfully and quite obviously eavesdropping on her best friend, with him.

"Where did Tracey get off to?" he asked, and couldn't help himself from laughing when he saw Neville blush. The Longbottom scion turned his glare on the suave, dark-skinned Slytherin, who raised his hands defensively. "Whoa there Longbottom. I know Trace has had a thing for you for a while now, and it's just hilarious to see her finally doing something about it."

Daphne quickly interrupted before things started to get heated, as Neville's face began to turn a Weasley shade of red. "And what about you, Zabini? I don't see you going after anyone," she smirked victoriously.

It was wiped off her face immediately though, when Blaise smirked back, and looked at Hannah out of the corner of his eye. Daphne stared slack-jawed as the brash womanizer brushed Hannah's strawberry blonde hair to the side, and kissed her soundly. She seemed confused for a moment, before initiating another kiss with Blaise that left even the perverted Slytherin wordless.

That was until, a series of events occurred. Blaise looked over at a snickering Malfoy, and commented, "What are you laughing about, you ferret? I don't see you getting any from Susan?" This was met with a glare from Draco, who suddenly flushed a brilliant shade of red.

Before he could comment, however, Ron Prewitt had stood up and began shouting at Harry and Neville from across that Hall. "How could you two? Consorting with Slytherins, I thought you knew better than that! Their all slimy bastards that work for You-Know-Who, why can't you see that?! Those whores must have given the two of you Love Potions! Come back here, where you belong!" It was clear that he was trying to sound encouraging, but the snarl on his face and the insults he had just thrown at Harry's girlfriend and Neville's focus of affections were working against him.

'_Perhaps if he had offered us cookies…'_ Harry thought wryly. Out loud, he replied, "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Weasel! Or should I say, Prewitt!" This declaration was met with a typical Weasley blush, and jeers throughout the Hall. "Especially considering that your sister was dosing me with Love Potion, I didn't think even you would be stupid enough to bring that up!"

That statement was followed by a very negative reaction towards the redheaded Gryffindor, who abruptly fell back to his seat after a Stinging Hex from Daphne that only he and Harry noticed.

Finally, it seemed Hermione and Ginny had some concept of self-preservation, and each grabbed Ron by an elbow and hastily retreated to the Gryffindor Commons Room.

"Now then, what were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?" Blaise asked, crossing his arms while smiling cruelly at Draco.

The Malfoy heir swallowed audibly, before saying in a voice near a whisper, "Uh Susan? Could I talk to you? In-in private?" Susan looked puzzled, and also rather nervous in anticipation, and nodded while biting her lip gently.

Once they were out of the Great Hall, the arrogant blonde ushered her into a deserted classroom. "Er…Susan…you see…I uh – I fancy you," he blurted out suddenly. Immediately after saying that, his eyes widened in shock that he had said that, with such little preamble. "That is to say-" he began.

It appeared to be Draco's lucky day however, or perhaps romance was in the air after the two previous bold declarations of affection, as Susan cut him off with a kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him closer, and after a moment's shock, he put his hands on her lower back and pressed himself closer, deepening the kiss.

Alas, the human being requires oxygen to survive, and they eventually had to break the kiss, gasping for hair. Susan whispered into Draco's ear, "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear that from you."

Draco smiled into her red curls, thinking that, finally, things were starting to go right for him.

* * *

**A/N: So my bashing of Dumbledore has come to an end, from here on, he is a good guy. However, I will still have my fun with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny! **

***Smirks evilly and begins to plot the deaths of his three least favourite characters***

_Edited: 08/04/2013_


	7. Chapter 7 - Marauders

**Disclaimer:** I regretfully do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

Chapter 7 – Marauders

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**Room of Requirement, Hogwarts**

Theodore Nott Jr. looked down at his left forearm and lovingly stroked dark tattoo, in the shape of a serpent coiled around a skull. The serpent appeared to be alive and twisting around; the Dark Mark, the symbol of Lord Voldemort and his faithful, the Death Eaters.

Theodore had been commanded by the Dark Lord to complete two missions: to kill the Leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore, and to repair a Vanishing Cabinet, which would enable the Death Eater to raid Hogwarts through the sister Cabinet at Borgin and Burkes.

Theo, as his few friends called him, was well aware that he was only given this job to punish his father for his failure in the Department of Mysteries the year previous. The mission had resulted in the escape of Potter and his friends and the imprisonment of his father, as well as the father's of his only friends; Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and Pansy Parkinson. This came at a rather steep price: incarceration of four wealthy purebloods did not normally correlate to the death of only one member of the Order of the Phoenix, albeit it was an important member, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The Dark Lord expected him to die in the effort of murdering Dumbledore, but Theo was convinced that he would not fail. He would make use of his Slytherin cunning, and when the old man least expected it, he would strike, and Albus Dumbledore would be no more.

After he succeeded in both of his missions, he would be well rewarded by his Lord, and would quickly rise to his right hand. Once that happened, he would be able to seek out justice on those who had wronged him; Harry Potter, for getting his father into Azkaban, Draco Malfoy, for betraying his Pureblood roots and betraying the Dark Lord, and Daphne Greengrass, for continually rejecting his advances.

Why couldn't she see that Theo would be the best match for a Pureblood of her status? Considering that she was one of the wealthiest Purebloods in Hogwarts outside of Susan Bones, who was a blood traitor and not worthy of his attention, and Pansy Parkinson, who was only good for a quick shag but not a real relationship, Daphne would be a perfect wife for him.

But now, even she seemed enamoured by the Potter brat. Yet another reason that he hated the Boy-Who-Lived, and would watch him killed before his very eyes, and would smile as he tortured him, killing those he loved right in front of the foolish Gryffindor. And then, he would prove to Greengrass that she belonged to him by birthright, and he would convince her that the Pureblood way was the only way.

Theo smiled to himself as he continued to repair the Cabinet in front of him. It was almost completed, and Theo let out a whoop of glee as he corrected a mistake, leaving only two more to go. He exited the Room with a skip in his step, and was followed by his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, disguised as first years and left near the entrance to warn him if anyone appeared.

He had originally had a dozen malfunctions to fix, so he was rather proud of himself for getting so close to achieving his goal. A voice in his mind that sounded suspiciously like Dumbledore's during fourth year spoke, _'Eternal Glory.'_

**Empty Classroom, Third Floor**

The group of eight was practising various Magics in an empty classroom in the third floor, because the R.O.R was, oddly enough, busy for the evening. The only clue they had was a couple of first year girls who dropped their scales and fled when they saw the group approaching.

Currently, Draco and Blaise were practising Organ Liquefying Hexes on dummies. Neville, Hannah, and Susan were working on an eighteen inch Herbology essay on the Essence of Murtlap-well, Neville was working on it; the others were copying his.

Tracey and Daphne were chatting together while working on a twelve inch Potions essay on Wolfsbane, and Harry was sitting with them, reading a tattered old book and occasionally chuckling to himself.  
Finally, the five who were doing actual work finished, and glared at the other three. Harry ignored them and continued reading, blissfully unaware of the glares. He looked up, and said in an overly irritated manner, "What?"

Daphne sat on his lap, taking the book away while he was distracted, before leaping back up to her feet. "_The Marauder's Guide to Animagus Transformation," _she read aloud_. "By Messrs. Padfoot, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail. Guaranteed to work in less than two months, unless you are Wormtail."_

"Yeah," Harry said, smirking, "It insults Wormtail practically every page." At everyone else's confused looks, he said, "The Marauders were a group of four students in the early 1970s. They were best of friends and pranksters extraordinaire. Moony was Remus Lupin," he continued, causing a gasp and sneering when he said 'friends.' "Padfoot was Sirius Black, Prongs was my father, and Wormtail was Peter Pettigrew," he spat.

He continued to explain about Sirius' innocence and Pettigrew's guilt in everything. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a book, "This is the seventeen greatest pranks they committed; I got it as a Christmas present last year."

"It's so strange knowing that our serious DADA professor from third year was one of the most infamous prankers in Hogwartian history," Hannah said thoughtfully.

"He, unlike my dear godfather, has matured with age. Anyways, when the other three discovered that Remus was a werewolf, they found a way to transform with him. It's also where the Shrieking Shack legends come from. I thought I would follow in their footprints. Do you guys want to try, too?"

The rest of the group nodded eagerly. "Well, there's a potion we can take to learn our forms, can one of you," he pointed at Daphne, Tracey, and Susan, "Make it? You're the best at Potions."

The three girls in question nodded and made plans to work on it together. "Of course. And Harry?" Tracey asked. "If you ever want to follow in their footsteps and prank the living hell out of everybody … you can count me in."

Everyone shuddered at her devilish smirk, though the entire room called out, "Hear, hear!"

**Great Hall**

The following weekend, Harry was greeted by a second year Gryffindor at Lunch, who gave him a letter with Dumbledore's familiar slanting calligraphy.

The note told Harry that they would venture to search for a Horcrux that evening. It filled him with a mixed sense of excitement and dread, as if he knew that something bad would happen against the plan.

He quickly flashed the note to Daphne, Draco, Susan, Tracey, Neville, Hannah and Blaise, who had become a larger part of their group and had formed strong friendships already with Harry and Neville, who did not know either well. Harry had already told the entire group of the Horcruxes, and the group responded with disgust, though Draco still wanted to go with Harry and their wizened Headmaster.

He had not told anyone save for Daphne that he was also a Horcrux, and she had respected his wishes for secrecy so far. As a result, the whole group wished him good luck, and decided to spend the afternoon together under the shade of a large tree near the Black Lake.

"So Harry," Susan began, "Where do you think you and the Old Man will be going?" Susan sneered as she referred to Dumbledore, as did the rest of the group. They had still not completely forgiven him for mucking around with Harry's life for so long, and none of them would place their complete faith in the man again.

"I don't know, probably a place that meant something to a younger Riddle," he commented, frowning thoughtfully.

"What about that cave you mentioned; it sounded like Tommy boy would have placed something of that importance in a spot like that, considering he revisited it several times in his youth," Neville added in.

Tracey, coming to her boyfriend's side, said "He would have felt near invincible there as a kid, and let's face it, nobody would think to check there." Neville smiled smugly, and kissed the chestnut-haired Slytherin gently.

Draco seemed to be contemplating something, and after Susan prodded his ribs (rather painfully), explained, "By that logic, he may have hidden something in Hogwarts; it was like a home to him here."

Blaise nodded appreciatively at that, "If I were a sociopathic mass murderer, where would I hide a valuable heirloom?" Hannah smacked him upside the back of his head, causing him to turn his infuriating pout on her that somehow always broke her defences.

"Right, before you start snogging in front of all of use," Harry cut in, "The Chamber of Secrets seems like as good a place as any to me. I didn't exactly have much time in there to explore for Dark Magical Artefacts last time."

"So it's a plan," Daphne concluded. "After Harry goes to this Cave or wherever, we'll check the Chamber."

Before Harry went Horcrux hunting with the Headmaster, he quickly searched his Marauder's Map for Daphne. Seeing her exiting the Great Hall and moving in the direction of the Dungeons, he replaced the Map in his trunk and took a golden vial from his Uncle Vernon's old socks. He placed the Parseltongue lock on his trunk and took a few shortcuts to the dungeons.

He managed to cut Daphne off talking to Draco, Blaise, and Tracey. Draco looked like he was going to stay with them as they talked to Harry, but Blaise and Tracey wisely removed him from a gracious Daphne's presence.

"Hey Daph," Harry addressed his lover, "I just wanted to see you before I went with Dumbledore…and I … uh, I wanted to give you this," he stuttered under Daphne's gaze, and took the vial out of his robes.

Green eyes gazed into cerulean blue eyes, until Daphne muttered, "Felix Felicis?"

"Liquid Luck," Harry confirmed, and was suddenly met with Daphne's lips. When they finally stopped for breath, he gave a cheeky smile, and said, "I'll take that as a thank you?"

She swatted his arm gently, before saying, "Yes…but why? Wouldn't the potion be of more use to you right now, with whatever unknown perils you may be facing?"

"Daph, I just have a bad feeling … just take this if anything happens, keep yourself safe, ok love?" he asked, looking at her imploringly.

"Of course, my love," she replied, and gave him another searing kiss. "Take that as motivation to survive," she whispered against his lips, before walking off to her common room, leaving a dazed Harry Potter, before he realized he had an appointment to get to.

He nearly sprinted to the Great Hall's entrance, where he had promised to meet Dumbledore. "Ah, Harry my boy," the old man greeted, "Are you ready for our excursion?" After Harry nodded, he continued, "Good. Now, I want you to promise me that no matter what happens, you will listen to me and do as I say. Understood?"

"With all due respect, sir, I've learned not to blindly do as you tell me to do. However, I will heed your words, but if I find that what you tell me to do is against my best wishes, I will refuse to do so."

Dumbledore smiled, and said, "While I may not have the gift of Seeing, somehow, I knew that you would not simply roll over and do as I told. Very well, Lord Potter, if you would kindly grasp my arm, I apologize in advance that this trip may, once again, be … uncomfortable."

Harry grabbed the offered forearm, and the world spun around them, and he was squished through a tube. When they arrived, he was barely able to prevent himself from vomiting. As he looked around, he gasped at the scenery; he was on a rocky outcropping facing a Cave across a short stretch of the sea, and he automatically remembered the scene from Riddle's memories.

'_Time to go kill a part of Voldy's soul!'_ he thought cheerfully, as he followed Dumbledore's lead, and jumped into the freezing water.

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**A/N: I'm thinking of changing the rating to M, for violence and language, Yay or nay? This does not mean I will suddenly start writing lemons, because I am not comfortable with writing them.**

**Thanks for continuing to display interest in this story, please review!**

_Edited: 08/04/13_


	8. Chapter 8 - Nott a Good Plan

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter franchise; all rights go to J.K Rowling and Warner Bro's.

**Warning: Around halfway, it gets slightly gruesome, but not too detailed.**

Chapter 8 – Nott a Good Plan

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**Dungeons, Hogwarts**

Daphne Greengrass entered the Snakes' Common Room, smiling slightly as she thought of Harry. She gently fingered the small vial of Liquid Luck, unaware of the figure, shrouded in shadows, which remained in the dungeons.

Theodore Nott Jr. cursed at the new development; this was the day that he was going to go through with this plan to kill Albus Dumbledore and enable the Death Eaters access into Hogwarts. But now that Greengrass had Lady Luck on her side, he would have to be very careful. If she suspected him of anything, even for a moment, she might take the potion, and his plan would go to the dogs.

And while there was a part of the Nott scion that wanted to just avoid Potter's whore and act normally around Potter's Slytherin friends, there was another part of him, the more ambitious part of him, which wanted the potion. If he could just steal the vial and down it before she could stop him, then his plan would go perfectly. Theo decided that he would just wait for his chance, and then jump the slag. She likely wouldn't put up much of a fight, but her friends ... they could be more of a problem.

Maybe he could get Parkinson to deal with Davis, while Crabbe and Goyle distracted Malfoy and Zabini. But no, the oafs would find a way to make a mess of things, and Parkinson tended to be rather transparent in her actions. Sometimes, Theo truly wondered what had happened to the Snake Den; they had fallen to the point of housing those three, who were not at all cunning.

He respected Adrian Pucey, a seventh year, but he would ask questions. He would not simply do as he asked, without questions, and without pay. And the Puceys were a respected family; he doubted veiled threats or even blunt ones would work.

As Theo saw Greengrass get up, apparently to get something from her dorm, he realised that this would, most likely, be the best chance that he would get.

The blonde haired beauty had, in fact, decided to distract herself from Harry's possible plight, and went to find her Potions notes. After all, her twenty four inch essay on the properties and effects of the Draught of Rags would not do itself, especially since she did not have one of those Quick Quotes Quills in her possession.

As she entered the room that she shared with her best friend Tracey, Pansy Parkinson, the perfect model of pure-blood supremacy who had a rather unfortunate face reminiscent of a pug, Millicent Bulstrode, a rather heavyset girl who had a very low level of self-respect, and led her to be easily manipulated by Pansy, and Lily Moon, who she was ashamed to say she knew absolutely nothing about, save for that she was a pure-blood, and was dating Zacharias Smith, a respectable (and rather haughty) Hufflepuff, she heard footsteps.

The footsteps were those of someone trying to be silent, but failing rather spectacularly. Slowly, she turned her head, and gaped at her follower. "Nott?" she asked, curious as to what he wanted. However, her curious pause gave the Nott heir the opening he needed, and he sent off a quick stunner, that impacted with Daphne's chest, and she  
crumpled to the ground, effectively stunned.

Daphne woke up slowly, confused as to her whereabouts. Thus, it was rather appropriate for her confusion to deepen as she observed that she was currently on her bed. With a quick check, she ascertained that she still had her lover's Felix Felicis in the pouch around her neck, and that she was sprawled on her bed. She also noticed a smirking Tracey Davis looking down at her. "What happened?" Daphne groaned. The last thing she remembered was Nott attacking her ... and now, he was tied up in the corner of the room.

Tracey smiled at her, but it was Draco who replied. "The dumbarse followed you up, so we followed him. He stunned you, and then we stunned and bound him," he said bluntly. He was standing near Nott, who was being glared at by Blaise.

"Uh ... thanks," she said. She feared what might have happened if Nott had not been followed, it was no secret that he considered her to be his property. Blaise and Draco waved off her gratitude, while Tracey just smiled. "So now what?" she asked, honestly curious about what they would do next.

Before anyone could answer, Nott had suddenly been Enervated by someone, as he stood up, his wand out, as Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle all charged into the room. Within a few seconds, Crabbe and Goyle were already dealt with. Draco had Banished Crabbe into the wall, and he slumped forward, unconscious, while Goyle was hit by a Bludgeoning Hex to the ribs by Blaise, and was grasping his ribs in pain.

Tracey reacted before Daphne had even taken out her wand, and sent a Cutting Curse to Pansy's abdomen and a Gouging Hex to her shoulder. "And then there was one," Tracey stated darkly.

Without hesitating, Daphne sent a Blasting Hex at Nott. It missed her mark - his chest - but still hit the boy's left shoulder, causing him to fly backwards, and twisting midair. His back hit back up against the wall while he was mid twist, and he fell upside down. The result was his head hitting the ground with a dull thud, his neck twisting as a gruesome snap was heard. Theodore Nott Jr. was officially deceased.

Everybody gaped, Goyle suddenly forgetting his pain, while Pansy did not move. Daphne felt close to vomiting, and Tracey lost control of her nausea, vomiting all over Crabbe. Draco and Blaise looked rather shocked; they disliked the boy, but neither wanted him dead. "I ... I didn't mean to ... " Daphne trailed off, as Draco moved towards Pansy.

"Wow Trace," he said with a serious expression. "That Gouging Hex looks to have done quite some damage. Now I'm no Healer, but it seems to have torn through her carotid artery, if so, then she's dead." Indeed, a quick examination of her pulse revealed that the Parkinson line had ended along with the Nott line that night, as Draco shook his  
head solemnly.

Both girls were shaking with tears, when suddenly, with the swish of a cloak, am oily voice drawled, "What the blazes is going on in here?" Daphne in Tracey looked in horror at their Head of House, Professor Severus Snape. Would they go to Azkaban for this? As it was, Daphne already had a tainted reputation after the incident in the Great Hall, surely she would have a trial though, and would be able to state that it was self-defence, and that she was not aiming to kill, her shot had been off aim? Expulsion was a near definite; though the Old Man was very forgiving at times, the outcry, especially from the Wizengamot, where Lords Nott and Parkinson both had prominent roles, he would have no choice but to expel both of them.

Tracey was thinking along these lines as well, though she was less concerned about being expelled.

Draco stepped up, and gave his godfather a detailed account of the night's occurrences. Snape gave a sad look to Daphne and Tracey, losing their innocence at such a young age. "Very well, I will tell the Headmaster everything when he returns. We may also need to obtain some of your memories, and Tracey and Daphne will likely end up in  
front of the Wizengamot. If I have my say, both of you will be acquitted, but with the idiocy and incompetence of the Minister ... until then, I suggest going down to Madam Pomfrey, and acquiring Calming Droughts as well as Dreamless Sleep potions."

Unknown to all inside of Hogwarts, Theodore's death was a blessing in disguise. With no one to open the Vanishing Cabinet, the assorted Death Eaters all found themselves travelling around the Void, and nearly half of the Dark Lord's forces, including Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, died. This was the cause of a violet-eyed woman screaming in joy, as she ran out of Nott Manor before any of the Death Eaters  
present could stop her, and Apparated away to the home of her ancestors, Black Manor, on the coast of Wales. The last word she uttered caused a feral snarl to erupt from the Dark Lord's mouth, "Freedom!"

In a Cave somewhere off the coast of England, near London, was a scene that anyone would describe as strange. An old man, with garish orange robes and a silvery beard that descended to his waist and was tucked into his belt, slowly dragged himself out of the water. Only moments after this, a boy did the same. This boy appeared to be in his mid teens, and had piercing emerald green eyes, and unruly raven black hair, which concealed part of the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Indeed, Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, the greatest wizard of their respective generations – with their enemy being the greatest wizard of the generation that separated them – presented an odd sight. But their purpose was not to make a fashion statement of any kind; rather, they were there to destroy a part of said enemy's soul.

Albus, the usually manipulative and secretive old man, had had an epiphany recently, where he realized how badly he had treated the son of two of his best friends, Lilly and James Potter. He had acted as though Harry was a sacrificial lamb, and had carefully controlled and tested the boy for over six years at Hogwarts when he decided that no longer would he act for the 'Greater Good.'

No longer would he sculpt Harry into the perfect saviour for the Wizarding World, just to have him killed so that he, or Severus, could take advantage of the situation and destroy a finally mortal Lord Voldemort.

He looked over to the young man, a surge of pride coming over him. Despite everything Albus had done to his life, fucking him over almost as many times as Fate, he was still so strong, so kind, so brave; a Gryffindor through and through. And he had done something that no one had done successfully in recorded history, something that even his mother had failed at; he had improved House relations. Hell, he was dating a Slytherin, and both seemed to be truly in love with each other. _'Ah, love,'_ he mused.

Dumbledore had always stated that love was the most powerful thing in the world, that it was the sole reason for Harry's survival as an infant, and he still believed this. His thoughts were disrupted, however, as the duo encountered a jagged rock wall. Reaching out with his magic, he detected a ward, a ward that required a sacrifice. "How crude," he muttered, almost to himself. Upon Harry's questioning look, he elaborated, "The only way to gain access into the cave is to make a small sacrifice."

Harry flinched when he heard _sacrifice_, which, ultimately, he would be. He was unable to prevent the old man from suddenly, with a speed contrary to his age, withdrew a small blade, and carved a shallow wound into the palm of his hand. Ignoring Harry's startled protests, he placed his palm against the rocks, and they withdrew slowly, deliberately, as though they did not want to.

He quickly muttered "Episkey," healing the small injury, and walked forward, unaware of Harry's glare. As they continued on their mission, they came to a small lake, in the middle of which was a small island, from where an eerie green light shone. He walked towards a rope, and pulled it out, revealing a boat. However, he was interrupted by Harry.

"Professor, can't we just use _Wingardium Leviosa_ to levitate each other across?"

The Headmaster looked thoughtful, before chuckling lightly. "Of course, Harry. Tom would likely have been too arrogant to ward against a simple Levitation Charm, bravo," he applauded. He was rather happy that they would not have to brave the waters of the lake, which would, undoubtedly, host sinister creatures.

After he arrived on the island, he levitated Harry over to him. They looked towards the light, which was now revealed to be coming from a basin full of liquid, and underneath the surface was the object of their search, the Locket of Salazar Slytherin.

"I believe that we will have to drink this potion. It will not be a poison, but it will weaken the user, so that only the strong – for example, Tom – would have access to it," he said calmly, though on the inside was a myriad of emotions. Confusion, as to what the potion would do. Disgust, as to what Tom had done to himself. And surprise, as Harry reached for a small goblet and dipped it into the potion.

"Thank you Harry, now if you would be so kind, please continue to administer the potion to me, no matter what I may say?" Dumbledore asked, reaching for the goblet. However, much to his surprise and confusion, Harry pulled the cup just out of his reach.

With a twinkle in his eye that made Dumbledore finally understand why people were so infuriated by his own, he said, "Surely, Headmaster, you do not believe that I will – what is it that they say nowadays? Come quietly?" he nearly quoted the old man. Taking advantage of the befuddled look, he said, "Bottoms up," and raised the cup to his lips, and downed the first gulp of many of the potion.

* * *

**A/N: So, once again, I must ask your opinion on whether or not to change the rating to M for violence and continued language. If, once again, no reviews are left in response to that, the rating will be changed regardless. So please, review, and give me your opinion on the rating, the story, or on the current political situation; every review counts!**


	9. Chapter 9 - Family Reunion

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter franchise.

Chapter 9 – Family Reunion

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange let out a whoop of glee. With the death of her detestable husband Rudolphus Lestrange, and his brother Rabastan, she was finally freed. For the last twenty years she had been bonded to them through a marriage contract that had taken away all of her free will from her, as her Uncle and Head of House Orion Black married her off to another pureblood family.

Not for the first time in the last two decades, Bellatrix envied her other siblings. Andromeda, always the rebel, had not only married for love, but had done so with a Muggleborn by the name of Ted Tonks, an act so against the Black beliefs that she was blasted off the family tapestry and disowned.

And Narcissa had married a respectable and wealthy pureblood in Lucius Malfoy, but had not been forced. Indeed, she was supposed to be married to Rabastan, but had eloped with Lucius, breaking the holds of the contract before it could be completed. From there, the Lestranges had quickly cut ties with the new Lady Malfoy, as not only was the Malfoy family wealthier and more powerful than the Lestranges, but Rabastan would never want to marry someone that was already "tainted." So instead, he settled for raping Bellatrix when Rudolphus was finished with her. How ironic.

But Bellatrix had always been the good child, the one who did as she was told. Quite ironic, considering that now she was known as the insane and psychopathic witch who had killed thousands of witches, wizards, and Muggles alike, regardless of their heritage.

Just look at what she had done to Alice and Frank Longbottom. They had even been friends, back before she had been shopped off to the Lestranges. Both were from prominent Wizarding families, the Longbottoms were one of the most Ancient Houses that existed, up there with the Bones, Blacks, and Potters, while Alice was born Alice Baker, a well off family, though nowhere near the wealth of some of the top-tier families.

And without a thought, she had tortured both into insanity, and she was beaten and raped every time Rudolphus realized she felt regret for her deeds. Then the year prior, she had mocked the new Longbottom heir, Neville, about what she had done. All along, unable to prevent herself from doing such things, as in the Wizarding World, she literally belonged to Rudolphus. She was his possession; he owned her.

But now, with his death, she was finally totally and utterly free! Nobody could dictate what she could or could not do anymore, and she intended to use her newfound freedom to the fullest.

But first, she had to contact her cousin, Sirius Black, and the current Lord Black. Sirius had always been her favourite cousin; where Regulus was a pureblood fanatic, Sirius was the rebel, much like Andromeda. He was the only Black in Slytherin in hundreds of years, and did everything he could do to piss off his parents. Eventually, he too was blasted off the tapestry, though he was not formally disowned, allowing him to remain as heir after Regulus' death.

The plan was to go to an Ancient Black home in Wales. Upon trespassing on the wards, the Lord Black would be notified. However, she would gain admittance because of her Black blood. From there, all that she had to do was persuade her cousin that she was not in fact a psychopathic mass murderer – well, she was, but not of her own free will.

Hopefully, it would not be too hard, as Sirius had been in the same position himself, with slight differences. For example, he had simply been tossed into Azkaban without a trial, where she was given one. If only they had asked if she had done those crimes of her own free will … but no, they had asked her if she had, without Veritaserum, and she admitted guilt. If she was let free, while still under Rudy's control … she shuddered to think of the consequences, had she been given more orders.

Perhaps she would. It was, without a doubt, true that she was crazy, insane. But an evil bitch who felt no remorse for any of her actions? No, that was one thing that she was not.

She felt the wards trigger as she passed through them, accepting her presence as a Black. Within moments, her cousin would appear, and hopefully would opt for an ask first, shoot later policy, rather than the opposite. But knowing the Gryffindor within him, it was highly unlikely that he would do so. She could have her wand out at the ready to perform a Shielding Charm, but that would likely cause Sirius to jump to the conclusion that she was attacking. And that was rather contrary to her goals.

So she kneeled down and placed her hands behind her head, in a position of surrender, which she had seen in a Muggle movie Andy had coerced her to go to once. Not that she complained after, it was an amazing thing to see how far the Muggles had come, and really went to show that the Wizarding world was too far back in time for their own good.

She was snapped out of her musings by a loud pop, and a hawthorn wand pointed at her throat.

* * *

**12 Grimmauld Place**

Sirius Black sat at the Head of the Dining table at the ancestral home of the Black family, 12 Grimmauld Place. Around him sat his cousin, Narcissa Malfoy née Black, her sister Andromeda Tonks née Black, and her daughter Nymphadora "don't-call-me-Nymphadora" Tonks.

They were currently in the middle of a family meeting, a monthly occasion they held. The next meeting would include Draco Malfoy, Narcissa's son, and Harry Potter, his godson. Also, Harry's grandmother Dorea Potter was Sirius' aunt, making Harry a Black by blood as well.

The only missing link was Bellatrix Lestrange née Black. To this day, Sirius was still confused about what had happened to her. One day, she was publicly denouncing Lord Voldemort and declaring her undying hatred of his followers, the next she was married to a member of his Inner Circle and one of his favourites.

He had a nagging suspicion that something was wrong, that dear Bella's sudden change in heart was fabricated, and not of her own accord. It would not surprise him at all if his father, the previous Lord Black, had put her into a marriage contract, but one where she lost all of her own free will? Was his father that unloving towards his niece? And was his Uncle so easily persuaded to sell his daughter?

Sirius winced slightly as he felt Andromeda's hand hit the back of his head. It appeared as though she had noticed he had completely tuned them out. He groaned in an exaggerated manner, and was about to make a snarky comment that would have likely resulted in further pain for the Marauder, when he felt a warm sensation on his left hand.

Looking down, he saw the Black ring was glowing and emitting the heat. This could mean only one thing; someone had intruded on Black grounds. However, this person had easily bypassed the wards, meaning the mystery person was a Black. And unless Draco or Harry had suddenly gone on a vacation to celebrate the beginning of exams in a bit over a week - which no one did - then it left only one other Black.

Quickly focussing his magic on the ring, he was able to locate that the trespassed home was the one in Wales, a manor that only the Black family knew about.

Seeing his cousin's concerned looks, he grinned. "Well, dear cousins, duty calls. It appears that the wards on our Welsh home have been triggered, meaning that the final Black of our generation must have paid a visit ... perhaps, you would like to accompany me to greet your sister?" he asked, widening his smile at their shocked faces.

"Of course," Cissy said quickly. She had always missed her other sister dearly, and sincerely wanted to know what had changed.

Andromeda gave a smile. "There should be at least one responsible person there, so I'm in." Sirius shot her a playful glare.

Tonks grinned mischievously. "I have always wanted to see my Aunt Bella," Andy made to interrupt, but her daughter hastily continued, "And I, as an Auror, have the most experience in the field."

Her victorious smile vanished as Sirius stated, "Well technically, Nymphadora, I am the most experienced; as I served in the Auror Corps for almost a decade before I went to Azkaban." He grasped his shin in pain as Tonks kicked him as hard as she could under the table.

"Don't call me Nymphadora!" she exclaimed angrily, her hair turning from her traditional pink to a dark red.

Okay, okay, you can come," Sirius submitted to three women's laughs.  
Even the normally overprotective Andy gave way to her daughter's temper. "Very well, if you'll gather around me," he said. They joined interlocking hands, and Sirius wiped the playful grin off his face, in favour of a more serious expression. "Off we go!" he said cheerfully, turning on his heel as he Apparated them through the wards to the Black Manor in Wales.

As they landed, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at his cousin. "Hello, Bella, fancy seeing you here."

* * *

Bellatrix was surprised when she saw not only Sirius, but her long lost and forgotten sisters, and another girl. Sirius looked the same as ever, a playful arrogance that he could never quite mask behind his shaggy hair, much like that of his canine form.

Narcissa, as always, was the model of pureblood etiquette. Blond hair cascaded down her back, hair that was a mystery to everyone, as Blacks were notorious for having dark hair. Perhaps it was dyed, to match her husband's?

Andromeda also held a regal air to her, curly waves of chestnut hair falling over her shoulders. Bella had always envied her sister, for being able to rebel and speak out against their parents. If only she could have done that, then all this could have been avoided.

The final girl was more of an anomaly. She had purple, spiky hair, and violet eyes. She was the type of person who could be called Goth, but her personality was simply far too bubbly for that. Realization struck her as she remembered Andy sending her a letter saying how her daughter was a metamorphagus. Bella had been forced to mock the "blood traitor whore," of course.

After a moment of silence, Sirius spoke up. "Hello, Bella, fancy seeing you here." The statement was so idiotic, so _Sirius_, that she had to consciously refrain from chuckling.

"Indeed, dear cousin," she said formally, "I trust you are well, Lord Black?"

Said Lord Black let out a bark that would not have been out of place for his animagus form. "Very well, Bella, except for the whole 'convicted-criminal-on-the-run-fro-Azkaban' thing."

"I can see how that may put a wrench in your plans," she replied smoothly.

Her boisterous niece interrupted her pleasant conversation, unfortunately. "Mind telling is what you're doing here?" she asked with a grim expression that seemed out of place with her colourful appearance.

Bella paused to compile her thoughts. The purple-haired Auror tapped her foot impatiently. "First off, I, Bellatrix Black formerly Lestrange, hereby swear on my life and on my magic, that anything and everything I tell Sirius Black, Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa Malfoy, and Nymphadora Tonks is the truth, as far as I know so mote it be." As she spoke, a light encompassed her body, and shone brightly for a moment before disappearing.

Taking in the shocked faces of her family, she continued, "I was put into marriage contract with Rudolphus Lestrange when I was seventeen. The contract bound my will to him; if he told me to jump, I could not prevent myself from doing so," she said, her eyes downcast in a demure fashion. The statement elicited gasps from her sisters, niece, and cousin, and pitying looks.

For the next half an hour, Bella explained how everything she did was because of Rudolphus' orders. Finally, she concluded by telling those present that Rudolphus and Rabastan were finally dead, and she was free. Silence reigned for a couple of moments after her tale ended with a "Lumos!" to prove the legitimacy of her story. Finally, Sirius said, with a smile that threatened to take over his entire face, "Welcome back, Bella."

He pulled his cousin into a hug that lasted for several moments, stroking her hair as she cried softly into his shoulder. Bella had never, in her wildest dreams, thought that her family would forgive her and welcome her back with open arms.

Tonks was the next to recover, throwing herself at her aunt and second cousin prompting a giggle and chuckle respectively. This seemed to wake up Narcissa and Andromeda, who joined in on the group hug, and Sirius was the only one left with dry eyes, so he muttered, "Why must women always cry?"

This time, he had no leg to hop on, as both Bellatrix and Tonks kicked him in his shins as hard as they could. They looked at each other as Sirius emitted a manly "Eep!"

"Great minds think alike, aunty," Tonks commented with a shrug. Bella gave an un-ladylike snort, "Indeed," before pulling her niece into another hug.

* * *

Maybe he should have let the old man drink the potion, Harry reflected. He lay gasping on the cold, rock floor of the Cave, as Dumbledore fished out the locket from the basin. It had taken close to a quarter of an hour to empty out the basin; it may have been shorter had he not fought the Headmaster so much. But the visions it showed him, terrible things indeed.

Some of the things he had seen were memories, others were images plucked out of his worst nightmares, in a chronological order. His mother, sacrificing herself in front of baby Harry's crib, and the snake-like humanoid advancing on him. His uncle, belt held in his hands like a whip, slowly stalking towards the cringing figure in the corner. A figure in the ForbiddenForest with silver, coagulated unicorn blood hanging from his robes, a demented Professor with a purple turban, a family of overgrown spiders that had not had a feast in a long time.

A sixty foot serpent, a Dementor on the Hogwarts express, the Hungarian Horntail, Cedric Diggory falling to the ground with a blank look on his face. The serpent-like man rising out of a cauldron, torturing him, trying to kill him again, a pink toad torturing him with a pen; all of these were real memories.

Then it changed to his nightmares. Blaise and Hannah, hands clasped together, unmoving, Draco and Susan, Neville and Tracey in the same positions, all dead at his hands. And Daphne, standing in front of him, shouting, _'I hate you!' _

Finally, it was over, but the images stayed in his mind, and for once, he yearned to be Obliviated again, if only to forget the terrible things he had seen. Each and every one of them showed him at his weakest, unable to help those that he cared for (although the ones regarding the Weasleys and Granger no longer applied to that).

Albus Dumbledore had been infuriated with the young boy, so selfless that it still made his heart pang when he remembered that he wanted to use him as a sacrificial lamb. Why had he taken the cup? A part of him felt that it was just to piss him off, and indeed, he might have, he had the Marauder blood running through his veins.

Perhaps the boy felt that Dumbledore could better take both of them back to Hogwarts than Harry could, should the drinker be incapacitated. Or maybe he thought that he was stronger than Albus due to his youth, and could better handle the drink.

Regardless of Harry's motives, Albus continued funnelling the potion into the boy's mouth, cringing every time Harry let out a guttural shriek of pain. Finally, it was over, and Albus withdrew the locket. The moment he grasped it, however, he knew that something was wrong. It did not possess the same evil that the Diary and Ring had. It was a fake.

He opened it, and read the short note. _R.A.B._ It could only be Regulus Arcturus Black, the Death Eater brother of Sirius Black. At least the real locket could easily be rediscovered, Dumbledore mused. But he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He could hear Harry muttering, "Need … water," over and over again. He grabbed the cup and whispered, "Aguamenti!" and a steady stream of water left the wand. However, it disappeared shortly after making contact with the cup.

He quickly walked over to Harry and gently put his wand into the boy's mouth, and did the spell again, making sure to hold back most of his magic so the water came slowly. Harry gulped the water up, and slowly gained back his energy, though he still seemed rather fatigued.

Albus levitated him over to the other side, and since he could not perform magic on himself, did the magic on his clothing. He found himself pulled to the other side by his robes, and smoothed them over upon reaching Harry.

The duo walked back to the entrance to the Cave, before exiting and Apparating away, Harry still leaning heavily on the elder man.

* * *

**A/N: So there's the chapter, my longest so far. I've also changed the rating to M as you can see, as nobody has told me to do otherwise yet. Hope you liked it, and please Review, under the sole condition that you do not make a lewd comment on the sentence _"gently put his wand into the boy's mouth."_ Anyways … until next week.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Debts

**Disclaimer:**I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

Note: Sort of long-ass rant at the end. Feel free to skip it if you so desire.

* * *

Chapter 10 – Debts

There were two warring factions within Harry Potter. One part felt that there was something distinctly emasculating about waking up in a Hospital bed with a beautiful girl next to him; him barely able to move, her perfectly fine. The other part - the hormonal teenager part - was beginning to think of said beautiful girl, Daphne Greengrass, in a skimpy nurse's outfit.

Before the second part of him could become victorious, as he knew it inevitably could, he sat up groggily. "Morning." He winced at how raspy his voice sounded, as if he had not had any water in several days.

Daphne raised one eyebrow. "It's two thirty."

"Well, than good afternoon."

She started to laugh, but cut herself off, smacking Harry's shoulder gently and glaring at him. "Stop being funny, I'm trying to be angry at you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot!" she exclaimed heatedly. A flash of guilt passed over his face as he realized how concerned she was, the pain that he had caused her.

"What happened last night?"

Just as Daphne began to explain, Madam Pomfrey hurried into the Infirmary, and began casting diagnostics on Harry. He craned his neck slightly, and realized that he was the only ward there. Just perfect, that meant that all of her motherly attention would be focussed on him.

She tutted a couple of times as her wand lit up, and said, "Well Mr. Potter, I find myself at a loss as to how you inexplicably end up here so damn often."

Harry chuckled. "Does that mean you're letting me out before dinner?" he asked plaintively, batting his eyelashes for an innocent effect. Next to him, Daphne started cracking up, and let out a rather unladylike snort.

"Not a chance, Potter. You're staying here until tomorrow morning," she said sternly.

"But there's not even anything wrong with me!" he complained.

Pomfrey fixed a stern stare on her most frequent patient. "You will stay here tonight and not argue it, or you won't be getting out for the next week Mister!"

"Yes Ma'am," he answered meekly, with barely any cheek.

The matron simply shook her head good-naturedly, and walked away, muttering something about "miscreants" and "just like his father," the latter of which brought a smile to Harry's face.

As she gently closed the door leading into her office, Harry turned to Daphne expectantly. The innocent look proved to almost be too much for her, as she was barely able to refrain from laughing. He smirked in a rather victorious manner, as though he had one some kind of a competition. "What's with the smirk?" Daphne asked, genuinely curious.

Harry frowned. "Don't you remember? It was a couple of months ago – January 12th, to be exact – and I gave you that innocent look, and you said that it would never work."

"But it didn't work."

"Ah, but the purpose was not to be innocent, it was to amuse you," he said, nodding sagely while stroking the stubble on his chin.

"Prick," she muttered, to which he simply grinned cheekily.

"Anyways … where are my six favourite friends."

Daphne gained a playful glare. "Oh? And what am I?"

"My sexiest friend, girl friend, lover, future wife, future Lady Potter … must I continue?" Daphne blushed; it was rare that the two talked about their future. Of course, he had to put his foot in his mouth directly after that. "Of course, the latter two probably will not apply, as my chances of surviving this war are not favourable."

There was a dull thump as she punched his shoulder, this time not so gently or playfully. "Shut the fuck up, Potter. If you say something like that one more time, then … then …" Maybe it was time to play her last card, the one that she knew would shut him up. "Then I will stop sleeping with you."

His eyes widened in shock. After a moment, he wiped the bleak look from his face, to replace it with a faux cheerful one. "So, I hear I'm going to survive the war!"

She smirked. Success. "Good boy," she said, lowering herself down to give him a long kiss.

"So anyways, where are the other six anyways?"

"Well, Draco and Susan are down at the Lake, Neville is helping Tracey on a Herbology assignment, and I have no idea where Blaise and Hannah are, though I would bet every last knut in my inheritance that if you were to use your Marauder Map, you would find them in a broom closet."

Harry smiled mischievously, before groaning dramatically. "Oh god, why did I have to fall in love with a gambler?"

"Because nobody else would have taken the gamble to get to know you, or maybe just because I am extremely smart and beautiful and sexy and amazing and just generally perfect?" she asked innocently.

"All of the above," he replied, and was rewarded with another kiss. "You never did tell me what happened last night."

Daphne sighed deeply. "Well, after you left, I went to get a text book, and Theodore Nott decided to try to jump me for the Liquid Luck you gave me."

"He did WHAT?" Harry interrupted furiously.

"Shush, I'm trying to tell a story," she chided. "Long story short, I ended up killing Teddy with … I think it was a Bludgeoner? Tracey killed Parkinson with a Gouging Hex, and Draco and Blaise each knocked out one of the thugs."

Daphne had begun sobbing violently by the end, and Harry pulled her close to him, and stroked her back gently, running his other hand through her hair. He muttered nonsense into her ears to soothe her, telling her that everything was alright.

"I'm ... a monster!" she wailed. "I killed someone our age ... oh Harry."

Truth be told, Harry had never been very good with women, and it was not much of a secret. "Shh ... you are not a monster ... god knows what Theodore would have done if he had taken the Liquid Luck ... this is war, and unfortunately, that means we have to kill people. You were the first person to tell me that Dumbledore's second chances were complete bullshit, and that nobody who willingly took the Mark ever truly renounced it - and those of it who have, like Karkaroff, are dead.

"It's normal to feel like this, but you have to remember that if he had taken it, he might have killed you, or someone else that we love. Don't think of it as you killed someone, think of it as you prevented someone from possibly killing you, or Blaise, or Draco, or Tracey ... or Astoria. Because he would not have suddenly changed his mind. His father was a Death Eater, and I'd bet he was too. He had no moral compunctions. You did the right thing, Love. Don't doubt yourself."

By the end of his rant, Daphne's tears had stopped flowing, though her eyes were still moist. She captured his lips, and they kissed for several minutes. Both had swollen lips, and their hair was all over the place.

Daphne slowly got up, and walked over to her tie, which had somehow found it's way to the ground several feet away. She buttoned up her shirt slowly, seductively, before putting the tie back around her neck. She lay down on his bed, snuggling against his side. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, occasionally kissing a faint outline along his jaw.

After a while, she stretched - a stretch that led to Harry staring rather obviously at a certain appendage of hers - and begged off for dinner.

* * *

As dinner wore on, three Gryffindors were huddled together in the Common Room. They had eaten hurriedly, before stalking off to create a devilish and nefarious plot, no doubt.

"So, what should we do about Pothead?" The voice was male, and came from a lanky boy with red hair, who had a tendency to eat with a gusto that most found repulsive.

"I don't see why we don't Obliviate him and the Greengrass slag again," piped another voice, this time from a female, sounding rather malicious. She had long red hair, and could be considered beautiful, if she did not have such a demented gleam to her eyes.

"No, that would be too obvious, and we would have to do the same to Malfoy, Davis, Zabini, Longbottom, Bones, and Abbott too. No, we need to do something less suspicious, something that would not be obvious. Perhaps we could lace his drink with a Repulsive Potion, so that he would steadily turn against Daphne. Then we could begin to spike his drinks with Amortentia again, and this time, Loyalty Potions too." The final voice that suggested this was from another female, who had bushy hair and had a noticeable overbite that was the cause for much mockery. "So long as Blinky continues to be faithful to us," she suggested, referencing an old Prewitt house elf that Molly Prewitt formerly Weasley had found shortly after being denounced from the Weasley family. "I could probably make enough Potions for a week in a couple of hours."

The other two agreed, so she went off to her Dormitory. She knew that her roommates, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, would not care that she was making a Potion, as they would probably just complain about the smell and then gossip until going to bed.

Sometimes, Hermione Granger was very happy that she lived with such simpletons. So easy to fool, or manipulate.

* * *

The next morning, Harry James Potter woke up to find seven friendly faces looking down on him, and one Sun that was too damn bright in his opinion. Blearily, he blinked the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, and greeted them. "Good morning - it is morning, right Daphne?"

"Yep," said a cheerful voice, as the face of his true love came into view. It was a view that always managed to stop his heart for a moment, before suddenly restarting it at three times its prior speed.

The bustling matron then made her way into the group, and declared, "Well Mr. Potter, everything checks out; you're free to leave."

He almost let out a whoop of glee, but held it in because he was confused by something. "Do you mean to say that you inspected me while I was asleep? And what else do you do to me while I'm asleep?"

Draco and Blaise both snickered at Pomfrey's blush. "I will not stand for your lewd accusations, Mr. Potter. Now out with you, before I decide to keep you another day!"

She hurriedly ushered the group of eight out of the Infirmary, all of which were laughing uproariously, excepting Daphne, who, being the perfect Pureblood, simply smiled.

As they reached the Great Hall, they slowly made their way to the Hufflepuff table, all of them engaging in several conversations. They had continued to sit at the table of the Badgers, as going back to Slytherin or Gryffindor simply had not occurred to them.

"Hey guys? Have you noticed that we have no Ravenclaws in our group?" Harry remarked in an off-handed manner.

"Maybe because they're all stuffy bookworms?" Tracey suggested, effectively ending the conversation as they sat down.

Harry heaped a healthy helping of eggs and sausages onto his plate, and was about to take a sip of his Earl Grey when his ring suddenly heated up. It was a warm feeling, not painful, but noticeable enough. He reflected back on the words of Griphook when he had given him his ring, regarding the ring's protections and warnings.

* * *

"Now, Mr. Potter," the Goblin continued as Harry slipped the ring onto his finger, delighting in the feeling of it as it tightened to his dimensions. "That ring has several protections and warnings imbued into it; most Ancient Pureblood Houses do so. It will deflect minor Hexes and Jinxes, as well as Memory Charms." He smirked at the look on Harry's face; one of relief that he would not have to watch his back for an Obliviation any moment, or while he slept.

"The ring, on the other hand, is much more complex. If it detects some kind of a potion in a goblet or food within an inch or two, it will heat up, and flash a variety of colours. If it turns black, then it contains poison, or something else that is lethal. Red means a Love Potion; the darker it is, the more powerful it will be. Green means it is to enhance a feeling towards someone, such as loyalty; again, the darker it is, the more potent. Then there is blue, which would mean the opposite, such as disloyalty or repulsion, the same rule applies. Yellow is a draught to enhance negative emotions, but more dangerous than if it were blue. For example, it might be a Draught of Rage, to cause you to hate someone. Finally, orange would be a tranquilizer, such as a Calming Draught, Draught of Living Death, et cetera. Understood?"

Harry paused for a moment, committing everything to memory to ensure that he had every detail memorized, before he replied in an affirmative.

* * *

Harry stared down at the ring. It was currently a very dark blue, with a tint of yellow on the edges. It was a Potion to make him dislike someone very strongly, not so much as to suddenly draw his wand and kill them immediately, but potent enough to turn him against them within a week.

A quick look told him what he needed to know, as the three traitorous Gryffindors immediately turned away from him, as if they had been staring at him in waiting, and did not want him to know. They had decided to wait until the summer to go after Skeeter and the _Prophet_. But they had said nothing against going after Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.

What was it that Mr. Weasley had said to him all those years ago? _We owe you our daughter's life, Harry_.

Turning to Daphne, who had been staring at him curiously, and then curled her hands into fists as she took in his ring colour, he asked, "What do you know about life debts?"

* * *

**A/N: So there's the newest chapter. **

**I wanted to reply to a lot of the negative comments that I've been getting, about how my Harry is stupid, how he's a fucking idiot, et cetera. So I've decided to explain his actions a little bit. **

**Starting with Crucio'ing the Not-So-Golden Trio. His emotions were high; he'd just found out that his three oldest friends had been fucking him over for several years, he lost control, and wanted them to feel pain for the shit that they had done to them. **

**Then he goes to Dumble's office. Remember, he had his wand ready, and would have taken out the 3 Stooges in only a few seconds – and he did. Also, despite everything that had happened, or maybe because of everything that had happened, he desperately wanted someone to at least realize that they were wrong, and hoped against hope that Dumbles wouldn't Obliviate them personally.**

**And then with the Cave. At this juncture, he's decided to try to forgive Dumbles, and he figures, in all of his Gryffindor bravery, that he was more healthy that Old Man Dumbles, and therefore was more likely to get through whatever potion was there. And if it was a poison … what the hell? He had to die eventually. **

**If that doesn't explain it enough to you, or you still disagree with me, or maybe you just have a stick lodged up your ass, feel free to tell me so in a thoughtful and polite review. **

**Speaking of which, I'm almost at 100, so … Review?**


	11. Chapter 11 - Trouble in Paradise

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 11 – Trouble in Paradise

* * *

"What do you know about Life Debts?"

Daphne was confused by Harry's question; why did he want to know that? As she looked at him, she saw his ring glowing; turning a shade that told her that something he had nearly ingested had some kind of a powerful Repulsive potion on it. "Why?"

At her question, Harry smirked. "I was just wondering what saving the life of an eleven year old girl from the spirit of a Dark wizard entailed?"

Daphne looked at him, confused, before her eyes widened in realization. The rest of the group was still confused as they had turned towards them when Harry had asked his question. Seeing their looks, Harry reminded them of his second year and his time in the Chamber of Secrets.

"During second year, when there were all of the Basilisk attacks and the Weaslette was brought in to the Chamber, I descended into Slytherin's pit, as you all know. After the incompetent fool Lockhart fucked everything up, leaving me and the Weasel on opposite sides of the landslide, I fought and defeated the Basilisk, thanks to Dumbledore's Phoenix, Fawkes, blinding the great beast. After that, I destroyed Tommy boy's Diary, saving the Weaslette's life. I remember reading somewhere - perhaps it was Hogwarts: a History -"

Blaise cut him off. "Come on Potter. Reading that missive, who are you, Granger?" he asked with a smirk that was immediately wiped off of his face by Harry's cold glare.

"You would do well not to compare me to the Muggleborn whore," he said threateningly. Blaise cowered under his glare, and Hannah attempted to back up her boyfriend, but was quickly silenced by another glare from Harry. "I am nothing like her; I would never be so greedy and selfish as to accept money to pretend to be someone's friend. We are friends because I respect all of you and have created friendships with you; I have no alternative reasons, I assure you," he ranted.

Blaise stared at him for a moment, before saying, "I am sorry, Harry. I forgot that the wounds of her betrayal were still fresh, I will not bring her up in conversation again," he promised.

"Thank you Blaise; I am sorry for overreacting so harshly," he replied.

As a silence overtook the group, Susan cleared her throat. "Weren't we talking about the Chamber of Secrets, the Weaslette, and Life Debts?" she asked, causing Harry to blush.

"Yes, well as I was saying, I came across the term 'Life Debt' in some sort of a Wizarding history book, but the explanation was rather vague. However, I remember Mr. Weasley saying, 'We owe you our daughter's life.'"

"What brought all this up?" Tracey asked, as she laced her hands together under her chin in thought. Her father had the Wizarding equivalent of a degree in History, so she had some knowledge on Life Debts.

In response, Harry raised his left hand, curling in all his fingers save the middle one, which carried a ring that had yellow edges with a dark blue centre.

"Rude," Draco commented, at the same time as Susan shrieked, "You're getting married?"

Harry's eyes bulged out of his sockets in shock, as Daphne began laughing so hard that her fists pounded the table. "Would you be that opposed to marriage, Daph?" he asked quietly, a hurt expression on his face.

Now it was Daphne's turn to be shocked. "No, no Harry that's not what I meant ..." she tried, but Harry was not hearing anything.

"Nev, do you know what the dark blue and yellow represent?" he asked, hoping that he was right. His hope was that Neville, as the sole male in the Longbottom family, had a similar ring, as Griphook had explained that many old Pureblood families did.

Luck was on his side, as Neville furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded. "Yes, but dark blue and yellow ... doesn't that mean ...?" he trailed off questioningly.

Harry nodded in response, his jaw set as Daphne still tried to get his attention, but was failing. He rose from his spot on the bench, and confidently stalked off without a second look at Daphne. "I - I didn't mean it th - that way," she whispered. "I just thought that Susan's reaction was so outrageous; I never meant it to hurt him."

A lone tear descended down her cheek as she finished, and Tracey scooted over to Harry's former seat and held her friend close to her. She whispered calming nothingness into her ear, and Daphne slowly began to stop shuddering.

"I fucked up, didn't I?" she asked.

Draco looked at her sympathetically from next to Susan. "Harry has just always wanted a family; I guess it kind of hurt him to think that you would not want to have one with him. But do not worry, Daph, he is just really stressed with the whole Horcruxes and Chosen One situation; once he calms down a bit, he will come back," he reassured her, patting her hand gently.

She sniffed a couple more times. Once it seemed that she had recovered sufficiently, Tracey turned to Neville. "So, Neville, care to explain what got Harry thinking about Life Debts?"

"Well, as heir to the Longbottom family, I have a similar ring, and, like his, it shines different colours for different potions used to spike any drinks or food the ring comes into close contact with, and varies shades according to the potency. If my ring follows the same colours as his, then his drink was spiked with a very potent potion to enhance negative effects, such as a Repulsive potion. I am guessing that he thinks it was the Three Stooges who did it, and a Life Debt would certainly be enough to shut up the Weasels. Speaking of which, should they be called variations of the Prewitt name now?" he explained, ending with a smirk.

The entire group fumed at the explanation. "So, if he saved Ginny's life, that should mean that she owes him a Life Debt, right?" Hannah asked.

It was Tracey who responded. "Not only Ginny, but the entire Prewitt family would be in his debt, namely, Molly and Ron Prewitt also."

"But what exactly does the debt entail?" Draco asked.

Tracey looked primed to answer, but Susan interrupted her before she could. "Perhaps we should wait for Harry to talk about this, so we do not have to hear Tracey's lecture twice?"

Tracey glared at her playfully. "I do not lecture; I simply give you all of the information that you may need to know on a topic. Right, Nevvy?"

Neville turned bright red at the term of endearment, before his eyes widening as he realized he was being forced to pick sides. "Uh ... er ... of course, dear."

Draco snickered as Neville stuttered out an answer, before paling as Susan turned towards him. "You agree with me, right Drakey?"

"Of course Susan," he responded hurriedly.

"Yes, well I have to agree with my housemate on this. You know, Hufflepuff loyalty," Hannah quipped, before turning to look at Blaise.

A confused expression found its way onto her face as she could not find him, but disappeared as she saw him several feet away walking as fast as he could towards the entrance.

Susan chuckled. "Ha! I have more followers than you do Tracey!" she crowed victoriously.

"Actually..." Daphne said, dragging out the syllables, "I believe that the two factions are still tied, as I support Tracey. 'Hufflepuff loyalty,' right Hannah?" she mocked.

Susan and Tracey both huffed. "Truce?" Susan asked, extending a hand in friendship.

"If you admit that when I give you information it is interesting, and not a boring lecture as you claim," she replied.

"Oh for god's sake, this is just stupid now," Daphne complained. "How about we go find Harry and Blaise, and then discuss the Life Debts in a peaceful manner."

Susan and Tracey looked at each other. "Fine ... but you know I was right," Susan whispered as they exited the Great Hall. Blaise proved to be rather easy to find, as he was simply standing by the doors, loitering. Apparently, he knew that Daphne would take Tracey's side in the argument, and then someone would be logical enough to end the stupid conflict.

Harry was more difficult to find. They checked a few abandoned classrooms where they often spent time together, and even checked outside to see if he was flying around or by the lake.

Eventually, they sent Neville up Gryffindor tower to find him on the Marauders Map, and he returned fifteen minutes later out of breath. "Harry was nowhere to be seen," he said once he caught his breath. "The Map was in his trunk, but it had some kind of lock on it that magic did not work on."

Daphne's eyes widened. "Oh right, he got that in Knockturn Alley; a Parseltongue lock. Only he can open it -unless Voldemort shows up and can get the code right - because he was kind of paranoid about the Three Stooges trying to take the Map, his Cloak, or his Firebolt."

"So then where is he?" Draco mused. "He could be in the Chamber of Secrets, or the Room of Requirements-"

"Or right behind you," a voice interrupted. Everyone turned on a dime - leading to Neville tripping over his feet and almost falling, using the wall as support at the last minute - to see the object of their search standing their, green eyes darkened by exhaustion.

"Where have you been?" Daphne asked quietly, wishing that she could be alone to speak with him.

"Hagrid's hut, having some tea and rock cakes," he replied.

A few members facepalmed, but Draco stared at him suspiciously. "Really?" he drawled.

Harry's lips quirked into a smile. "Nope, I was in the Room of Requirement ..." he paused, searching for the right word, "Venting."

"Could we talk together ... in private?" Daphne asked, looking down at the ground.

Harry stepped towards her, carefully raising his chin to stare into those eyes that he so loved; ever changing blue orbs. "Of course."

Neville, Draco, and Blaise stood there for a moment, before their girlfriends dragged them away for some private time. Before they left, Susan said, "How about we meet up again in an hour, third abandoned classroom on the left in the fourth floor corridor, Eastern wing?"

The rest of the group nodded their assent, and they split ways, leaving Harry and Daphne standing awkwardly, fidgeting with their thumbs. "Look, I -" they both started, before stopping.

"You first," Daphne said.

"I just wanted to apologize, I overreacted to you laughing, it was a really stupid thing for me to get upset over. Your turn," he replied, rubbing the stress lines on his forehead.

"I just ... I was laughing at Susan's reaction to the ring, not the prospect of marrying you. Actually, I sort of ... wouldn't be against that idea," she blushed, causing Harry to smile and grab her cheeks with each hand.

He slowly pulled her to him, and kissed her soundly, his hands suddenly finding themselves on her lower back as her hands intertwined behind his neck. After a few moments, they pulled away, each with swollen lips, and rested their foreheads against each other. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Daphne." He looked at his watch, and smiled. "You know, we still have forty five minutes to kill, and there's a broom closet about twenty feet to our right."

Daphne giggled and kissed him again quickly, before grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. They were quite disgruntled to find Neville and Tracey going at it in that closet, and then Draco and Susan in the next. The young couple almost cursed Blaise and Hannah when they found them without any clothing save their undergarments in another broom closet, before finally finding an empty one near the abandoned classroom they were set to meet at with only a half hour left.

* * *

All four couples were bedraggled as they entered the abandoned classroom, and Blaise's robes were inside out, a fact that caused him to blush when a smirking Tracey brought attention to it.

Of course, that led to Blaise questioning Tracey's limp, and a very near fight that was only avoided by Harry and Daphne walking in, hands intertwined.

"So," Harry started. "I must ask this again. What do you guys know about Life Debts?"

Tracey eagerly replied, shooting a glare at Susan as she groaned. "Basically, the wizard or witch indebted to you would have to do something beneficial for you at some time in the future. It can also affect their entire family, causing them to have to do something for you, and the only way to avoid doing so would be to disown her and let  
her be your slave."

Harry frowned, deep in thought. "How long would they be enslaved?"

"For as long as the person who saved their life wishes. It could be ten minutes, or their entire life. Hell, you could force them to sign a contract; making any children they have servants of your own."

"So then what do we do to the bitch?" Blaise asked.

"I say we do something big at dinner, in front of everyone. The favour would be to swear allegiance to House Potter, so she can never attack him or do anything detrimental to him," Susan suggested. She wanted to punish the people who kept on trying to hurt who she saw as an older brother.

A quick vote of hands showed that everyone was in favour of that course of action. "Great!" Daphne clapped her hands. "Well, it's still only eleven o'clock, and Harry and I have some unfinished ... business ... to attend to," she said, before pulling Harry to his feet, and he eagerly hurried back to a broom closet with her.

The others all chuckled at the display, before a proverbial light bulb went off in their heads, and they returned to what they had previously been doing.

* * *

"Well that did not work out very well." Ron Prewitt was sitting in a secluded corner of the Gryffindor Common Room with Hermione Granger and Ginny Prewitt. Ginny was proving to be rather annoying at the moment – if only because Ron would much rather be in a secluded area with only Hermione.

His sister was currently glaring at Hermione. She felt that Hermione had done something to mess up the Potion – perhaps the scent was more noticeable than it was supposed to be – because somehow, some way, Harry Potter had foiled their plans once again.

"I told you already, Ginny, the Potion was perfectly brewed; I followed the directions to the tee. He must have known somehow that his drink was spiked; he's definitely paranoid enough to have some kind of a device to check. This is one of the times where I am really pissed at Professor Moody's own paranoia."

Hermione had begun to get very upset with Ginny's suspicions towards her. Especially since the younger girl had been their constant companion lately, and she had not had a chance to release any of her stress and pent up frustration with Ron the way she usually did.

Ginny sighed loudly. "Maybe we should just let this thing blow over for a bit. He's bound to let his guard down eventually," Hermione suggested.

Ginny smiled happily. "It has to happen eventually," she agreed. "Until then, we'll just bide our time."

The trio watched, interested, as they saw Neville Longbottom rush up the stairs towards the Boys' Dormitory. Ron looked over to the girls and after a quick exchange, followed the Lion into his den.

A few minutes later, Neville came down, apparently flustered. They waited a couple minutes more, and when Ron still did not reappear, Hermione walked up to the Dorms with a quick, "I will be back in a few minutes."

She smiled as she saw the love of her life sitting on his bed, with his cloak folded neatly on his trunk. She undid the first few buttons of her cloak, seductively revealing her cleavage, and walked over to Ron with a sway in her hips that was very contrary to her usual attitude.

She slowly bent over in front of him, causing him to stare at her chest. She relished in the feeling of being wanted, before capturing his lips fiercely and shedding her clothing as quickly as possible. It was about time that she released some of her stress.

She just really hoped that Ginny did not come up looking for them, as it would be extremely awkward having her future sister-in-law walking in on her and Ron's naked bodies pressed together.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everybody who reviewed; I am now at 100! Now all I need is 98 or 99 to get to 1000 Reviews ... **

**Hope you liked the chapter, until next week. **


	12. Chapter 12 - Awkwardness

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

Chapter 12 – Awkwardness

* * *

Hermione Jean Granger slowly pulled herself away from where she had been very warm: cuddling with Ronald Weasley. At first, she had found him to be very annoying. When, at the beginning of first year, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had met with her, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Molly Weasley, and Ron himself, she had found him to be very immature. Of course, he was only eleven then, so she may have judged him rather harshly.

The Hogwarts Professors explained to her enough about their world for her to understand that it would be very difficult for her as a Muggleborn, or as the more prejudiced would say, a Mudblood, to have any semblance of a successful life. The adults had told her their plan to make the Weasley family wealthy, as they were a Light family and deserved better than the hand they had been dealt in life.

The plan had seemed brilliant to her. She had been told that Harry's Fate had been prophesied, that he would have to sacrifice himself in order to achieve the Dark Lord's mortality. In order to do so, Albus had blatantly gone against the Potter's will, to make young Harry pliable in his hands. A very lonely Harry would be easy to get close to, and once they had gained his trust, he would easily give his life to protect their own. And he had, without even knowing Hermione, when she had been attacked by a troll. Dumbledore had assured her that she would never be in any danger, as he would save her if need be. However, Harry and Ron had come to her rescue. Oh Ron, her lovely knight in shining armour.

But back to their plan, Harry would then fall in love with Ginny, the youngest Weasley and only female, either by natural means or via potions. Somehow, Hermione got the feeling that if Ginny had been a male, then Molly would have tried to seduce Harry herself just to gain the extra money, an ambition that had endeared her to Hermione. She could understand the want and need to support a family, and sometimes, you needed to take one for the team, as the Muggles would say.

After Ginevra and Harry had fallen love, they would get married, and Harry would bequeath the entire Potter vaults to Ginny, who would share it with the rest of her family, and Hermione, who would marry Ron. He had seemed rather bitter for the first couple of weeks of August after they had met, but soon learned to appreciate her. Or maybe his meeting with Hermione's mother, who had a very shapely figure, had given him an idea of what she would end up looking like.

Though she did not know, he considered her to have risen above and beyond any expectations he could have ever had for her. She was now one of the most beautiful witches in their grade, up there with Lavender Brown and Daphne Greengrass. However, she was much more intelligent than Lavender could ever hope to be, and his personal preferences kept him away from blondes like Greengrass. Hermione's own hair was still a curly brown, but rather than the bird's nest that it used to be, it was now luscious curls that extended down to her lower back. He loved everything about her, from her slender fingers, to her long, toned legs, to her milky flesh ... As Ron began to fade into fantasies, the girl of said fantasies was slowly uncurling herself from him, though she included a few wiggles of her hips to tease him, and thinking of their meeting.

Hermione had been very confused about why it had been her. To this day, she would see a girl like Padma Patil, Parvati's smarter twin, and think that she was just as smart as her. When she had asked Albus at that time why it was her, he simply said that it was because Muggleborns had so few chances at success, and if anyone could do something for the good of society, it would be her, to which she had blushed deeply.

Of course, she had accepted the deal. She would even be paid for the chance to succeed later in life in a society that was deeply prejudiced against her; she barely had to think twice before saying yes.

After meeting with her mother, Ronald had become a lot more tolerable. She came to appreciate his own ambition as he did the same as her and his mother, as well as his willingness to sacrifice himself to better their goals, such as during the live Chess battle they had in first year.

She realized that she had fallen in love with him around half way through third year; namely, during their Hogsmeade visit. He had been so gentlemanly and charming to her away from Potter's presence, and when the Boy-Who-Lived showed up, it was the epitome of 'cock blocking' as her and Ron were about to share their first kiss.

They did not get to do so until Ron's visitation to the hospital wing at the end of that year, courtesy of Potter's godfather, the lecherous Sirius Black. When they did, it was beautiful, and it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

During that summer, she gave herself to him, and again, he surprised her with how gentle he was with her. Sometimes, there personal sessions would be soft and gentle, like their first time. Other times, they would be needy, and somewhat rough. That day had been a combination of the two: it had started off full of need and lust that had been accumulated over the past couple of weeks, but by the end, it was barely more than gentle caresses.

She was brought out her musings as the object of her affections gently brushed his lips against her neck in a loving caress. With a quick Tempus Charm, she said, "Ron, it's five thirty almost. I should take a shower before we go to dinner."

"Do you want me to join you?" he asked eagerly. The question caused her to giggle into his chest, before she replied.

"As much as I would love to, Ronald, unless you plan on levitating me to the Great Hall, I will need to be capable of walking there."

He sighed, but gave in as she kissed him passionately. Then she got up, stark naked, and put on her clothes. In her rush, she realized too late that her panties was still on the ground, so she simply tossed them over her shoulder, and walked down the stairs, swaying her hips seductively for Ron's benefit and hoping that no one would see her on her way.

Unfortunately, she was not the only person who had been occupied for most of the day and decided to take a shower before dinner.

* * *

Harry James Potter and Daphne Greengrass had spent over five hours together; after a while, they had left their broom closet to visit the Room of Requirement.

They were currently cuddled together under a green and silver blanket - Harry had not felt up to having an argument about Gryffindor or Slytherin themes. Their clothes were strewn haphazardly around the room, and their limbs were tangled together.

Slowly rousing herself from her delectable position that had somehow resulted in her right leg looping over his neck and her head near his side due to her having rolled herself into a ball, she cast a quiet Tempus, and cursed when she saw that it was after five already.

Her mutterings woke up Harry, who had the pleasant sight of her pert rear to greet his bleary eyes. "By any chance, did I die and go to heaven?" he asked, groaning inwardly as he realized how cheesy that sounded.  
Daphne turned around, positioning herself so that she straddled his chest. "Nope, you just had sex with your wonderfully attractive and sexy girlfriend," she said cheekily, before reaching down to kiss him softly. "We should probably go now, though, its after five, and I need to wash away some of the soreness."

So saying, she got up, but as soon as she was off of Harry, he caught her ankle, and sat up sharply, pulling her back to him. She sat down on his lap roughly, causing him to wince, before he swept her around so that she was lying down, her head propped against the pillows and her feet lying in Harry's still bare lap. "What are you doing?" she asked, but got no answer, as Harry began to gently massage her feet, lathering attention on them. Slowly, he moved his hands to her ankles, and then calves, knees, and finally, her thighs.

Daphne groaned in pleasure, a noise which affected Harry, causing her to give an amused smirk, as her legs still stretched over his lap. "Harry, love, as much as I enjoy your attention, we really need to get going soon," she reminded him, causing him to pout.

In response, Daphne, luxurious in her movements, collected herself, before plopping down into his lap, much more gently this time. He trailed a line of kisses down her jaw line and collarbone. "I love you," he murmured into her neck.

"And I you, my love, but we really must be going now," she said with a gentle smile and a loving gaze directed at him.

He groaned, but let go of his grip around her waist. She wiggled in his lap one final time, before getting up. As she began to put on her clothes, she bent forward as she slipped on her panties, giving Harry a view similar to the one that he had woken up to. "Cheeky minx," he groaned, before changing.

It was a few minutes later that found Harry muttering the password to the Fat Lady, and entering the Gryffindor Common Room. A few people gave him an interested look - and Katie Bell barely suppressed a snort of amusement - at his dishevelled garb, but he simply gave them a rude gesture and walked off to the Boys' Dormitory, where he had a very disturbing meeting.

As he set foot on the stairs, he heard footsteps echoing on a slightly higher level. He turned with the winding stairway, and was very glad that he had just arrived at a platform, as he was knocked onto his back by another person, who fell on top of him. A dark object went flying several feet away, as the mystery person's knee hit the ground only a couple of inches away from a very sensitive region of his body.

He felt two soft (admittedly rather large) lumps push into his face, and his attempt to make the position less awkward failed spectacularly as it resulted in Harry getting a full view of the girl's - for they were obviously a female - cleavage, extending far past her neckline without a shred of modesty. He immediately came to the conclusion that Seamus and Lavender had spent the day together, for no one else would dress like that.

Trying to move his head, he whispered, "Would you mind getting off of me?" Judging by the reddening skin on the girl's - Lavender? - chest, she was blushing heavily.

"Sorry about that," said a familiar voice, but it was one that he could not quite place. Obviously, he had not heard this voice in a while, but then again, he had not talked to any of the Gryffindor girls other than Katie Bell in a while.

Finally, the girl removed herself from her awkward position above Harry. Once he got up, he went to grab the dark object before bothering to look up. He blushed despite himself as he felt the lace of her black panties - definitely Lavender.

However, he was quite surprised when he saw the curly dark hair, which had once been so bushy, framing the face of his former friend. His face immediately lost the pink tinge that it had gained, as he glared at her. "Should have known that it would be the slag of Gryffindor dressed like a whore," he commented dryly.

Hermione Granger glared back at him, her face reddening even more. She leaped forward to snatch her undergarments back, but Harry simply stepped out of the way and tossed them down the stairs, where they landed on the unsuspecting Cormac McLaggen's head, who had apparently been going up to the seventh year dorms. He faltered, trying to get the lace panties off of his head, but ended up tripping and falling down the stairs, landing face first with a loud thud and a crack. Despite the situation, Harry chuckled, before turning back to Hermione.

"I suggest you leave now, before something much worse happens to you," he said in a threatening tone. Hermione, apparently at a loss for words, whirled around and marched down the stairs. As she reached Cormac, she tore her panties off of his face. She hated the ponce; he had tried to grope her at Slughorn's party, all because she was not able to reveal her and Ron's relationship. Taking out her wand, she sent a painful Stinging Hex at the unconscious boy in a particularly vulnerable area, before walking off to the Common Room and the Girls Dormitory with a skip in her step.

Once there, she collapsed onto her bed in tears. While Ron had hated Harry immediately for his vast wealth (a wealth which would have become Ron's), she had not minded the boy. He had been very kind to her, even when no one else but Ron stood with her. Had he never figured out the depths of their deception, they might still be friends, and she had, despite her intentions, become very close to the green eyed sacrificial lamb.

She had tried to apologize to him repeatedly, but he had constantly denied her. Her stealing from him was likely just the nail in her proverbial coffin, as she had lost his trust, and would never get it back. She loved Ron dearly, but if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were to come after her, Dumbledore would be the only protector for her now, and he was not fooling her: he was dying.

Deciding that she had moped around for long enough, she stepped into the showers, shedding her cloak. She paid special attention to her hips and thighs - not out of any erotic reasons, but because she was sure to be stiff after her day with Ron. They had been very ... adventurous that day.

After she had cleaned her entire body, she wrapped herself in a warm, pink towel, and stepped out of the shower. When she was finally ready to go, it was about a quarter after six, so she headed down the stairs, where she met up with Ginny and Ron, who she greeted with a long kiss.

For some reason, Ginny refused to meet her eyes, and blushed heavily when she finally did. As they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner, her curiosity got the better of her. "Is everything okay, Ginny?" she asked, wanting to know everything there was to know, as always.

Ginny flushed red again. "Well, after you left to get Ron, I waited for about half an hour," she explained. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that she had completely forgotten about her younger friend, she had been so wrapped up in Ron's tender affections. "So I went up to Ron's dorm, and found both of you naked, with your legs wrapped around his neck." She blurted the last sentence out, and blushed even more heavily, as did Ron and Hermione.

"Oh," she squeaked in response. "Sorry I forgot that you were there waiting for me."

Ginny just muttered, "It's always the quiet ones," as they continued to the Great Hall. Once there, they were surprised at who was sitting at the table of the Lions.

"Oh great, what are Potter and company doing here?" Ron complained.

Indeed, Harry, along with Daphne, Draco, Susan, Neville, Tracey, Blaise, and Hannah, sat at the Gryffindor table for the first time since Harry's self exile from Gryffindor. It was evident that they were up to something, as the rest of Gryffindor was already sitting there, filling up all of the seats except for three ... which happened to be next to Harry and, across from him, Draco.

The two people who could irritate the trio the most.

After Harry finished his shower, he met up with Neville Longbottom, who had taken his own shower just before him. Apparently, Neville had witnessed an even more disgusting scene than Harry had.

After his gruesome description - apparently, Hermione and Ron were quite kinky - Harry had simply chuckled. "Please, like you and Tracey were playing chess to pass the time for the past five or so hours?"

Neville had the decency to blush at this. He had actually spent the afternoon in the Slytherin girls' dormitory. Draco, Blaise, and Tracey had walked in with him, surrounding him, so that none of the Slytherins were any of the wiser. He had also never been so happy before that he had remembered to use a Silencing Charm on Tracey's quarters. "Oh?" he asked, trying to recover his dignity. "And what were you and our favourite blonde Slytherin doing?"

Harry looked confused. "I haven't seen Draco since before lunch." Neville rolled his eyes. "Point taken," Harry conceded.

After that, the duo had talked to the rest of the Gryffindors, and the entire house had walked down with them, sans Ron and Hermione, who were still in their respective showers, and Ginny, who was in her dorm studying for the O.W.L's. The only other Gryffindor missing was Cormac McLaggen, who Harry had, in a moment of pity, brought to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had been appalled that he was left in his condition for so long, as he had fractured the orbital bone over his left eye and possibly had permanent damage to his family jewels.

Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table with Neville three seats away from him, with the rest of Gryffindor table was either next to Neville or two seats away from Harry. The seat next to Harry was quickly filled in by Daphne, with Tracey next to her. Daphne was holding Harry's hand, and they whispered to each other random things. The Davis heiress was resting her head on Neville's shoulder, as he wrapped that arm around her slender waist. Across from Harry were Draco, and then Susan. Her curly red locks of hair hung down to her waist instead of her usual pigtails as they were still wet, and she was almost sitting on Draco's lap. Finally, next to Susan was Hannah, and Blaise was on her other side, across from the Longbottom scion. Like the other three couples, they were very close to each other, though that could have just been because they were joined at the lips. The only thing saving them from losing fifty points from their houses was that Blaise was a Slytherin; as it was, both got a baleful glare from the sour Potions Master, and everyone at the table lost twenty from McGonagall for 'public displays of affection.'

Finally, just as Harry began to dig into his potatoes and finished his retelling of his awkward situation with Hermione, the object of their humour appeared with Ron and Ginny Prewitt. They looked around the Gryffindor table, and scowled as they saw Harry's smirking visage next to the only seats available. They looked at the Hufflepuff table for a moment, looking as though seriously considering it, before finally sitting next to Harry. It was Hermione who sat next to Harry, with Ron next to her and Ginny across from him.

Hermione immediately turned away from him, but Harry simply tapped her shoulder and smiled cheekily at the three.

"Hello there," he said cheerfully. The trio were quickly on their guard towards him, a fact which amused him tremendously. Harry stood up, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. "I just wanted to let you three know that House Potter is claiming the Life Debt owed to them by House _Prewitt_, namely, Ginevra _Prewitt_. You have two options: your entire House may swear allegiance to House Potter, or Ginevra will become property of House Potter. That is all." Harry made sure to emphasize the name _Prewitt_ each time he said it, and it had the desired effect of the three all glaring daggers at him.

Harry had considered trying to enact a Life Debt on the other two pricks, but could not think of anything. When Hermione had been attacked by the troll, it was Ron who had cast the _Wingardium Leviosa_ that knocked the Troll unconscious. And in the forest with Aragog, it was the car that had saved Harry and Ron, Harry himself had just stood there and tried not to pass out from fright. In his defence, he was only twelve back then.

The silence in the hall was deafening, as the octet chuckled to themselves quietly. The two Prewitts and future Prewitt glared at Harry again, before stomping off without eating anything, a fact which must have been even more hurtful for Ron.

Ron knew three things as he walked up the stairs in silence: he was going to have to explain to his mother why he had, as Heir to the Prewitt family, disowned Ginny; he was going to get revenge on Harry for this, no matter what it took; and he was not going to get lucky that night.

Back in the Great Hall, everyone had gone back to their food, or in Blaise and Hannah's case, each other's lips. Neville broke the comfortable silence, causing the other five (as Blaise and Hannah were too distracted by each other's tongues) to laugh.

"Well, that went well."

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**A/N: Well, I hope you liked that chapter. I decided to give Hermione and Ron some back story, so that they don't appear as evil gits. They need _some_ character development, after all.**

**In other news, FFN Grandmaster _James Spookie_ decided to favourite this story … I AM NOT WORTHY!**

**I think that is all for now. Thank you for reading, and please Review!**


	13. Chapter 13 - Parseltongue Locks

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 1.

**Warning:** There is a gory section a bit more than half way through, but it's not too bad.

Chapter 13 – Parseltongue Locks

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Lord Voldemort - or, as he was rarely referred to as, Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. - had been in a bad mood for a few days, and the news kept on getting worse. And while some people threw fits - and expensive jars at walls - Lord Voldemort was not that the average wizard, and definitely not someone that anyone wanted to anger.

First, he had found out that his raid on Hogwarts had failed spectacularly, ending the lives of several of his best Death Eaters. Bartemius Crouch Jr., Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, Gregory Goyle Sr., and Vincent Crabbe Sr. Though the last two were not the most intelligent of Death Eaters, they had their uses in brute strength and intimidation.

That led to the most bothersome area. Bellatrix Lestrange - Black, now -had been freed from Rudolphus' control, and, by extension, his own, due to his death. Lord Voldemort had lost his most capable Death Eater, and she had likely already gone to her blood traitor sisters and cousin, and through them, Harry Potter.

Harry Potter; how he loathed him. Somehow, the boy consistently evaded his attempts to kill or capture him. Until he killed the boy, he would constantly be doubted by his followers. Soon, the rest of the Wizarding World would ridicule him for his inability to kill the boy, if he failed again.

The same attempted raid of Hogwarts had lead to the loss of some of his connections inside the fabled school. Theodore Nott Jr. had been killed by the Greengrass heiress, a neutral family that constantly rejected his advances. Also, according to his sources, she was close to the Potter boy. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage … While the loss of the Nott heir was nothing worrying for him, as he meant very little and, regarding magical power, was rather mediocre, his father had been quite torn up over it.

Also, and even worse, was that Pansy Parkinson had died. She was very capable with the wand, and, if their previous meeting was anything to go by, had a sadistic streak that made her a decent and willing replacement of Bellatrix. Unfortunately, her own arrogance had caused her to be over confident in her skirmish with the half-blood Tracey Davis, and she had paid the ultimate price for it. It was a drawback that a lot of his followers had, underestimating those who were less pure of blood.

Finally, with Parkinson and Nott Jr. dead, he had lost his two most reliable spies within Hogwarts. All that he had left were the younger Goyle and Crabbe, which were even less intelligent than their fathers, a few fifth and seventh year Slytherins, and of course, Severus Snape.

So, Lord Voldemort found himself torturing Muggles and contemplating how he wanted to get revenge on Potter. He would definitely be able to get a measure of power over him through the Greengrass girl; maybe he could kidnap her and force Potter to hand himself over. The foolish boy would undoubtedly do it, as he put far too much stock in love.

He sneered at the young girl he was playing with. She was in her mid to late teens, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. She was rather shapely - as could be easily determined thanks to her lack of clothing except for her soiled knickers - with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. He let out an annoyed groan as he felt her will and sanity snap. None of the Muggles nowadays lasted much more than a minute or two with him; it was getting quite irritating. And nobody wanted an irritated Dark Lord.

The only way this day could get any worse would be if his horcruxes had been discovered.

Ronald Bilius Prewitt cursed quietly as he moved the curtain away from his dorm mate's four quarter bed. He had hoped to catch Potter while he was sleeping, and one Cutting Curse to the neck later, his sister would be free. It had turned out that Ron was right in his belief that he would be sleeping alone. While Ginny had understood that he would get rid of Potter for good before he could defile his sister, Hermione had been very upset with Ron's decision. Indeed, she had gone so far as to threaten using a Shrinking Charm on his bits, or, even worse, a lifetime on the couch.

That plan had failed immediately, as Potter was not in his own bed that night; sleeping with the Greengrass slag, no doubt. However, Ron felt confident that if he attacked Neville, one of Potter's best mates, then Potter would be easily lured to his death.

Normally, Ron would never imagine murdering someone, but Potter had ruined his life so much: first, he had managed to get Ron disowned, took all of his money back, and now he had enslaved Ron's sister.

Oh Ginny, sweet, sweet Ginny. Would she ever completely forgive Ron? He doubted it, but he hoped that if he could deal with Potter quickly, then he would be forgiven more easily. And who knows, maybe Hermione would be attracted to bad boys.

Longbottom had not been there either. Ron's educated guess was that he was under the Davis whore. He had to refrain from attacking Dean and Seamus as he thought of how two slimy snakes had managed to connive their way into two noble lions' pants. As it was, in a brilliant stroke of inspiration, he considered putting up a Charm on the two traitors' beds to give them an unpleasant surprise next time that they went to their own bed. Hopefully, the Snakes would be there too by some happy coincidence.

He decided to converse with Hermione, as she was better with Charms. Until then, stealing Potter's invisibility cloak, Firebolt, and the Marauder's Map would have to suffice. Walking with muffled footsteps, he walked across the dorm from Longbottom's bed to Potter's, in front of which lay a mahogany trunk.

"Rich bastard, that money should be mine," Ron muttered darkly as he looked at the expensive trunk. He had no doubt that, like the tent he had slept in at the Quidditch World Cup, it was magically enlarged. On the top lay the Potter family crest, a red griffin with a sword and staff crossed above its head and between its wings. Next to it was a strange symbol that Ron had never seem before, two snakes intertwined. He quickly recognized the snakes, combined with the lack of a keyhole anywhere, was some kind of a locking mechanism.

But Ronald Weasley was not a wizard for nothing. Pulling his wand out from under his cloak, he pointed the fourteen inch piece of willow with a unicorn hair hidden within at the trunk. "Alohomora!" he whispered, before the world seemed to explode.

After he had been dumped by Ginny Prewitt, Dean Thomas had been distraught for a few days. She had broken up with him for the weirdest reasons; she did not like how he held the door for her, his drawing of her made her look too fat, the list went on and on.

However, he had followed the old adage, 'the best way to get over a girl is to get under another,' and he now lay in his bed, thinking about the new girl in his life. Much like him, she was a Muggleborn. She was extremely beautiful, with long brown hair that descended to her lower back, and a figure that could compete with Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, and Daphne Greengrass.

Dean did not know what to think of Susan and Daphne, but he figured they were nice girls, since they were so close to Harry Potter. And Lavender, while exquisitely beautiful and shapely, was simply too ... for lack of a better word, slutty ... for Dean's tastes. Then again, he had dated Ginny Prewitt - rather, No-Name now, as Ron had disowned her even from the Prewitt house - for almost a full year, and she spread her legs for everyone, even Denis Creevey, if the rumours were to be believed. He had never understood why Harry seemed to be looking at Ginny so lustfully that year, as everyone knew that Harry was in a relationship with Daphne, and if her beauty was not enough to sate Harry, then Dean doubted anyone could. Then it was revealed that Ginny had been spiking Harry's drink with Amortentia, the most powerful Love Potion in Wizarding Britain, and Dean found himself happy that Ginny had broken up with him.

Aside from her beauty, Dean also liked that his new girlfriend was strong-willed enough not to give up her virginity immediately, again in stark contrast with Ginny. And the fact that she was a West Ham United fan did not hurt either. Indeed, Fay Dunbar was perfect to Dean in every way, from her toned legs to her personality; bubbly, intelligent, and generally fun and mischievous.

Next to his quarters, he could hear the creaking of a bed, and loud moans and grunts. Judging by the occasional "Seamus!" it was said Irishman and Lavender Brown, unless another girl had suddenly taken his fancy.

Dean was startled out of his musings by a flash of light, and a loud thud accompanied by the sound of bones crunching.

Seamus Finnegan was considered by most as the Gryffindor version of Blaise Zabini. Like his Slytherin counterpart, he was a lady's man, and some went as far as to call him a man-whore. Ironically, the curly, light brown hair that covered his chest belonged to his female counterpart.

A lot of people seemed to have a vested interest in when he and Lavender Brown would end their relationships. Lavender was a very buxom girl with light brown curly hair that descended to her well shaped rear, and her bust was one of, if not the most impressive in all of Hogwarts. As a result, she had a reputation of being a man-eater, not unlike Seamus' own reputation as a womanizer. This caused a lot of the boys to hope that Seamus would break her heart so that she would get her just desserts, while the Hogwartian females shared the opposite sentiment. Of course, Seamus and Lavender both knew that what they had was not love, simply lust. If they had to describe their relationship, it would be 'friends with benefits.' And the benefits were very good for both of them.

Seamus' best friend was Dean Thomas, whose quarters were next to his. On his other side slept Harry Potter - at least, he was supposed to, but in reality, the Boy-Who-Lived slept wherever Daphne Greengrass slept. Across from Harry's bed was Neville Longbottom, who Seamus could only assume was in close proximity to Tracey Davis. And finally, next to Neville was Ronald Prewitt - though, once again, he was sure that the former Weasley was underneath or above Hermione Granger. Judging by the silence (except for the occasional moan or grunt coming from him or Lavender), Ron was in the girls' dorm enjoying Hermione's body.

Somehow, Seamus doubted that Fay Dunbar and Parvati Patil, Hermione's roommates, would sleep much that night. Then again, if he and Lav kept going, neither would they. Just as Lavender began to leave a trail of kisses down his neck and chest, he heard a muttered word - perhaps a spell? - followed by a flash of light.

As Ron's spell hit the trunk, a bright light shone through the room, and he was expelled several feet backwards by the sheer magical power contained within it.

His arms flailed uselessly through the air as he tried to grab onto something, to no avail. He continued to fly through the air until his back met the far wall with a dull thud. As he fell to the ground, he heard a loud crunch that made him want to vomit. Indeed, he did vomit as he saw that his left leg had been twisted in a way that he was quite sure it was not supposed to be. Also, a bone (the tibia, or perhaps the fibula; Hermione had made him memorize the general bone structure of humans. Ron had not argued much, as his reward more than made up for all of his hard work) was sticking out of his skin, causing blood to stain the carpet.

Dean hurried to him; even though he disliked the other boy, Gryffindors still helped each other out. Seamus fell out of bed completely naked, as did Lavender as her legs were still entwined with Seamus'. If Ron had not been in so much pain, he would have taken a moment to commit the image of Lavender's naked form to memory. Not many men got to see what he was seeing … actually, almost every male above fifth year in Hogwarts had, but still it was a memorable scene. He really wished that he had tried to go a bit farther with her when they were "dating," but he had not as he had not wanted to upset Hermione more than she already was. But his fake relationship had been a necessary evil.

As it was, Ron was in quite a bit of pain, as evidenced by his screams. Finally, Dean hit him with a Stunner, and Levitated him down the stairs, intending to bring him into Madam Pomfrey's care. He shot a smirk at Harry's trunk; maybe next time, Ron would not be so stupid as to try to steal Harry's belongings.

Before the Stunner hit Ron, he swore to himself that he would kill Harry James Potter, regardless of the consequences, or he would die trying.

Once the dark-skinned Gryffindor had left with the Ginger haired boy, Seamus looked over to Lavender again, drinking in the sight of her body, her skin still covered by a sheen of sweat. With a shrug, he held out his hand, which the still sprawled out girl took, and pulled her to him before sitting back on the bed. After all, he would have to comfort Lav, she had just seen a very grotesque scene, and as such, he would have to help her forget all about it.

The next few days alternated between amusing and stressful for Harry and his friends, or the Elite Eight as some students began to call them. They spent most of their time in the Library, studying for their exams. While they were not their final N.E.W.T assessments yet, they were still extremely important.

The exams had gone extremely easy for the eight, mostly due to how prepared they were. Harry felt very content with his exams in Transfigurations, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, even with Professor Snape teaching. His Potions exam had gone well enough, as had his Herbology testing.

The amusement came from the news that Ron was in the hospital wing. While this itself was not amusing, the fact that Dean and Seamus went to Harry to tell him that Ron had received his injury from trying to break into Harry's trunk was. That night, he had been busy with Daphne in the Room of Requirement, as she had been worried that he would run off Horcrux Hunting by himself. A few rounds of passionate love making assured her that he would not leave her.

Meanwhile, Neville had, as the other three Gryffindors had suspected, spent the night with Tracey. Using Harry's Invisibility Cloak, it was quite easy to sneak into the Slytherin dorms with her, Blaise, and Hannah, while Draco went his own way with Susan to the Hufflepuff dormitory. The two couples had stayed awake most of the night, between their own activities and Lily Moon's passionate bouts with Zacharias Smith. It seemed to all of the eight friends that all of Hogwarts was particularly romantic over the last month of the school year.

They left for home on a Friday, and it was the Wednesday before when, finally, Daphne, Susan, and Tracey reported at lunch that they were finished making the Animagus Detecting Potion. They had been fascinated with the instructions given in Harry's father's book, as they had never thought of using some of the ingredients together in such a way. It seemed that James Potter had learned from Lily, though from the writing, it was clear that she had corrected some of the mistakes he had made.

The Potion even contained a mild hallucinogen that was distantly related to the Cannabis plant. It would cause the user to go into a trance-like state, where they would see their inner animal's environment through said animal's eyes, literally.

The eight soon found themselves in the Room of Requirement. They all stood on top of mattresses, in case the Potion caused them to faint outright. The Potion itself said in a large cauldron in the middle of the mattresses, with a series of small vials surrounding it, and a ladle next to them. Susan cautiously poured the perfect amount of the fluid into each vial, and handed them out to her best friends.

As Harry reached out for his, he put it near his nostrils and took a whiff. Turning green, he said, "Gah! Smells like dragon dung!"

Blaise gave him a concerned, yet amused, look. "And you would know that … how, exactly?"

Harry stared back at him for a moment, before he looked away, his cheeks tingeing pink. The rest of the group was now observing this, as everyone wanted to know of Harry's experience with dragon faeces. "Let's just say that while my Firebolt was replying to my Accio, the Hungarian Horntail got a little bored."

Tears were streaming down Neville and Draco's faces, while Hannah was on the ground, holding her ribs. Susan looked like she was going to vomit, and Daphne let out a small giggle, causing Harry to glare at her. Finally, Blaise was cackling with laughter, rolling around on the ground and pounding the floor with unrestrained humour.

"Oh sod off, all of you," Harry muttered. After everyone had their amusement restrained – with the odd snort or chuckle from Blaise – they all took their vials in hand. "Bottoms up!" Harry said, before emptying the vial in one swig. Immediately, he collapsed, and was very happy that Sue had thought to get the mattresses out.

All around him, his friends were falling into similar comatose states, though all of them saw very different images.

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**A/N: I thought I'd be a complete douche bag and end it there. If anyone wants to give any input on the characters' animagus forms, I'm open to suggestions.**

**On a completely random tangent, have you ever heard of the children's show **_**Captain Pugwash**_**? Well, in it, there's a character named Staines, and he's a sailor, so they call him **_**Seaman Staines**_**. Yeah. Also, I changed the formatting error at the beginning of the last chapter…still not sure why the first paragraph was centred.**

**Anyways, love it? Hate it? Indifferent to it? Want me to stop writing this? Then please Review to let me know your thoughts on this chapter! **

_Edited: 08/04/13_


	14. Chapter 14 - Animagi

**Disclaimer:** All rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 14 – Animagi

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The last thing that went through her head before she fell unconscious was, _'I hope my form is not something lame, like an elephant.'_ Then, everything went dark.

When she was able to see again, she was looking down. The barren, steep declines informed her that what she was looking down upon was a series of mountains - in which case, she was flying. She, Hannah Abbot was soaring hundreds of feet above the earth. Was this her animagus form? What was it?

Evidently, it was some sort of a bird. Yearning for some idea of what she looked like, she spotted, with perfect a vision, the sparkle of the sun caressing the water a couple of kilometres away. Going at her top speed, she was quickly able to arrive at the source of water building up in a valley between two mountains - a fjord.

She slowly swooped through the air, enjoying the feeling and letting the wind carry her closer to the surface. As her form became clearer to her, she noticed that she was, indeed, some species of bird.

At first glance, Hannah thought that she was perhaps a small hippogriff, or maybe even a large eagle. However, she quickly realized that she was not. She had a golden body, with dark wings that looked to give her a wingspan of at least fifteen feet. Her body, unless terribly distorted by the water's reflection, was around four feet. Her claws, dragging along the water, had sharp edges that looked ready to tear into prey, yet it also seemed to have the ability to grab a smaller animal.

If she had to describe herself, it would be as a more regal version of a vulture.

Apparently done with her self-observation, she flew away, this time directing herself in another direction. Within a few minutes, she came across a small village nestled into the mountainside. She felt a sudden desire to plunge downwards, and letting her gaze observe the area, saw a series of objects flat against the ground. As she approached, she realized that it was the bones of a ram. Grabbing a leg bone between her claws instinctively, she soared two hundred and thirty feet into the air before dropping it to the ground below. She repeated the process several times, until the bone was broken against the jagged rocks below. Her claw dipped into the shattered bone, sucking in the marrow. So she was some kind of scavenger. Her earlier guess at being similar to a vulture gained credibility in her eyes.

After eating her fill, she rose into the air again, and continued towards the village. As she descended, she saw several farmers standing outside their farms, shaking their fists at her comically. The strange part of this was that, not only could she hear them perfectly, they were talking in another language ... Spanish?

So she was a Spanish scavenger bird ... the other seven would help her figure out her mystery animagus form.

Slowly, the world around her darkened, and she opened her eyes to find herself lying on the mattress inside the Room of Requirement. After a moment, she stretched out, and found that she was quite sore, especially near her shoulder blades. It was as if she had been trying to fly while under the potion. A quick observation showed that she was the only one of the eight already awake. Perhaps her vision had been shorter than theirs, maybe she had taken the Potion a few moments earlier than the others … regardless, she let her mind wander until the others woke.

Her eyes picked up the dark skinned boy next to her. Blaise Zabini, the Slytherin who she had started dating only a couple of weeks ago. Before their sudden relationship, she and Blaise had both been excluded from the group. There was no real reason for it; it just seemed that neither of them had been as steadfast about supporting Harry as the other five had been, so they had never spent time with Harry or each other.

However, after Harry's freedom from Dumbledore, Granger, and the Weasleys' oppression, they had found an instant chemistry between them. They were the only two in the group that were single, and when they kissed, it had been like nothing she had ever felt before, even with her 'experiments' with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Zacharias Smith … even Susan a couple of times.

She knew that his reputation was not unlike that of Seamus Finnegan's, or Lavender Brown's, but she also had a gut instinct that she could trust him, and that he would never do anything to hurt her. She also knew that their relationship was moving very quickly, much like Susan and Draco's, or Tracey and Neville's. Maybe it was just because they knew that a war was coming, and they wanted to enjoy the rest of their lives while they still could.

It had only taken them a few days before they started to get very intimate with each other – probably because of Blaise's natural charm. And so, for the last week, she had found herself waking up with her strawberry blond hair covering his dark, chiselled chest, and their limbs in a tangled heap. She had also found herself being chided by Susan for being so loud – not that she could say any different. Even with Silencing Charms up, they could still hear her and Draco going at it for most of the night. They were like bunnies, the two of them.

And then Susan had the gall to tell her that she was taking it too fast, and that Blaise was just going to shag her and then ditch her. Admittedly, his record did not inspire much confidence regarding a long-lasting relationship, but again, she felt like she could trust him. Her intuition was telling her that she could.

Another look showed that he was squirming and wriggling around, perhaps indicative of his own animalistic form?

Blaise Zabini found himself looking at a pile of leaves from ground level. In a moment of confusion, he tried to stand up, only to realize that he no longer had any feet. Or any limbs, for that matter.

He clenched his abdominal muscles, and found that by changing the frequencies with which he did so, he could slither across the ground – for slither was the only word that he could use to describe his method of locomotion.

As his body rustled against the leaves that coated the ground, he tried to use his neck muscles to crane his head around and see the rest of his body. After a couple of minutes of trying, he finally succeeded, and, if he was still a human, would have gasped at his transformation.

His dark skin had become a more golden colour, with a black pattern. The skin itself had been replaced by scales, and he appeared to be around thirty feet in length. A flicker in front of him caught his attention, before he realized that it was his forked tongue – wait. _Forked tongue?_ He was definitely a snake, considering that his tongue was picking up scent particles in the air. Somehow, he felt that he was being discriminated against. Trust the Slytherin to transform into a snake. Before he knew what he was doing, his head lashed forward.

His jaws tightened around his catch – an opossum, if he was to believe his instincts. As he subconsciously wrapped himself around his meal, he realized what he was: a reticulated python.

Obviously, his Potion had worn off – or he had arrived at the end of his vision – because the world faded around him, and when his eyes opened, he found himself back in the Room.

His abdomen ached – evidently, he had tried to slither around in his human form, as well. He could still taste the opossum in his mouth, a taste that he found somehow … pleasant. He guessed that he had gained some of his form's taste preferences.

He slowly turned his neck, and observed the blue eyes next to him signifying that Hannah had already came out of her vision. She slipped off of her mattress and crawled over to his, and curled up into his side, her breath warming his neck.

After a moment of content silence, he lowered his head, wincing at the pain in his neck, and kissed her softly on her forehead. He gently moved his lips down, to between her eyes, on her nose, before pressing his lips to her own soft ones.

She replied eagerly, and positioned herself so that she was straddling his waist, her long hair pooling onto his chest, before she bent down and kissed him again. And so they continued until the others woke up.

Hopefully, they would take their time.

She was happy to see that even though she was no longer human, she still kept her red hair. Her paws crunched against the leaves softly, barely leaving any noise at all, as she slowly stalked through the forest. However, she knew that the noise was enough to alert her follower of her presence.

Indeed, the grey shape flitted between trees, before the figure finally revealed itself to her. It was definitely canine – did that mean that she was, too? It was at least eight feet from snout to rear, but the tail itself added on another two feet. However, it was not the sharp teeth that captivated her, or the sleek grey fur along his body. It was the grey eyes that stared out at her – the eyes of her love, Draco Malfoy.

The grey wolf peered out from his safety behind the trees. The red hair seemed eerily familiar to Draco, but it was not the fur that stopped him in his tracks, nor was it the seven foot body with a one and a half long tail. It was the blue eyes. Though he could not speak in his form, he thought one word to himself.

_Susan_.

When Draco woke up, it was to the sight of Susan doing the same next to him. Further observation showed Hannah lying on top of Blaise, attempting to snog him until he could not see straight, but his attention was quickly brought back to the red head next to him. "Uh … were we in the same vision together?" he asked quietly.

She steepled her fingers underneath her chin, and looked at him appraisingly. "I think so … were you in a forest with a wolf?"

"Yeah … so I guess your animagus form is a red wolf?"

"And yours is a grey wolf," she confirmed. "What does it mean that our forms are so similar?" she asked, knowing that he did not know the answer.

"I do not know," he admitted, "but perhaps the Marauders' book has some explanation for it," he suggested.

Susan seemed to accept that answer, because instead of continuing their conversation, she took a page out of Hannah's proverbial book, and climbed on top of Draco, before kissing him softly. Their kiss slowly became more passionate, as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer to his body.

Where was she?

Tracey Davis had a rather inquisitive mind, so she decided to explore a bit. She was easily able to ascertain that she was in a jungle of some sort, and that she was either a feline or a canine – and a large one at that.

She confidently continued, pacing quietly along the jungle floor. She came to a halt as she saw the light brown figure of a doe nibbling away at the moss of a nearby tree.

Timing herself perfectly, she pounced forward, her sharp canines tearing into the doe's neck as her powerful jaws clenched, preventing it from fleeing. With a satisfying crunch, the doe's spine snapped, and it died with a final whine. She was just about to devour it when she noticed hazel eyes in the distance. They steadily grew in size as a figure stalked through the jungle towards her, until it completely appeared.

Tracey immediately knew that it was a tiger, a male tiger to be exact. Judging by the orange coat and black stripes, it was a Bengal tiger, and he seemed to be eight feet long with an added three feet tail, while standing at close to four feet. Overall, he was huge, even among tigers.

He also had brown eyes, a sight that, while not unusual in tigers, pierced her soul as she recognized them.

Neville Longbottom had been captivated by the sudden scent of blood that filled the air, and had immediately tracked down his food source. He had not been disappointed, as a large doe was lying on the ground, its throat ripped out and spine broken in two.

Next to the dead doe was an orange and black creature, a Bengal tiger, he instinctively knew, just like him. He had seen his reflection in the river from which he had lapped water, and had easily discerned his animagus form.

The tiger in front of him was definitely female, and was only slightly smaller than him. Where he was bulkier, she possessed lithe muscles, and walked with a grace that he had never before seen. Her deep green eyes betrayed her true form: this was Tracey Davis, his Slytherin lover.

He cautiously approached her, and their necks intertwined as they lovingly caressed each other.

Suddenly, they were back in the Room of Requirement. He opened his hazel eyes, and saw Susan straddling Draco, while Hannah doing the same to Blaise, all four in varying states of undress. Hannah was the least dressed, as she wore only her lacy knickers and orange bra (for Hufflepuff loyalty) which projected her bountiful bust, a sight which caused Neville to turn red.

An attempt to change this was horribly unsuccessful, as Susan was in similar clothing, and her chest, maginificent as it was, had Neville gawking for a moment before he caught himself.

He turned to look at Tracey, hating himself for staring at the bodies of two of his best friends, to meet her amused green eyes. "I … er ..." he stuttered, before she interrupted him.

"The time for talking will be later, Nev," she whispered throatily, before moving over to him so that she straddled his waist, much like Hannah and Susan, and kissed him deeply.

As he pulled her robe off of her, trailing gentle kisses along her jaw line, he could only hope that Harry and Daphne's visions took a lot longer, or that they kept each other busy long enough to let the others enjoy themselves.

After all, it was only fair that they got to enjoy themselves as much as Draco and Susan, or Hannah and Blaise.

She was sprinting after an antelope, her paws barely making any noise as she closed in on her prey. She was in some sort of a jungle - that much was obvious, judging by the foliage. She was keeping to the shadows, which revealed to her that she was a dark coloured animal, that was cunning enough to use the dark to camoflauge her from her prey.

Finally, she leapt into the air, letting her speed carry her towards the antelope. She landed on its back, her claws raking into its fur to find purchase. For a moment, she went to bite at its neck, but her instinct screamed to do otherwise, so she swept a black paw at the antelope's head, cracking its skull in one hit.

After she had eaten her fill, leaving only the innards and bones that she had no use for, she continued on her path. Judging by her continued appetite, she was quite large, maybe close to ten feet. But that was near impossible, she had read that lions were a maximum in the book that they had been using to have an idea on what their animagus form might be, _Deadly Animals and Where to Find Them._

She eventually reached a pond, and eagerly lapped from the source of water. Her reflection revealed that she was indeed a dark coloured feline; the only part of her that remained from her human form was her blue eyes. Her fur was smooth and midnight black, and she seemed to completely disappear when she slunk into the darkness, except for her blue eyes.

Raising her eyes slowly, she came across a majestic sight. Across the pond was another creature, that looked exactly like her, except it was at least twelve feet, and had a four foot tail, and his eyes were green, an emerald shade.

Only one word came to Daphne's mind as she saw him.

_Mate. _

Harry's eyes opened to see the ceiling above him, or rather, the sky. He had asked the Room to show him the sky outside of the castle, so that it was like the Great Hall. His entire body ached, especially his arms and legs.

Next to him, Daphne stirred at the same moment as he did. She stretched her arms above her head luxuriously, before turning onto her side to look into his eyes. "Hello, love."

Harry paused, thinking of something to say. A cursory check of the room showed Blaise, Neville, and Draco were likely the three happiest men in Hogwarts – though with Seamus and Lavender's sexual tendencies, one could never know for sure.

Gathering his thoughts, he said, "Were we just in the same vision?"

"I think so," Daphne replied, worrying her lower lip. "Should we get their attention?"

Harry smirked. "Nah, let's just enjoy ourselves while we can." Daphne smiled at him, before moving closer to him and kissing himself soundly.

However, their enjoyment was not to last, as Harry noticed, in the corner of his vision, Blaise's hands hook around Hannah's bright orange knickers, as though to pull them down. Groaning softly, and promising himself that he and Daphne would make up for it later, he sat up, Daphne sitting on his lap with her head against his chest, and coughed loudly.

The effect was instantaneous. Blaise's head turned so fast that there was an audible crack, while Susan fell onto Draco in shock, her chest smothering his face. In his opinion, if he suffocated and died, he would die a happy man. Meanwhile, Tracey just winked at Harry and Daphne, and continued kissing Neville for a moment, before sitting on his lap as he sat up.

Soon, all four couples were sitting down, with the females on the males' laps.

"So, I guess we should tell each other what our visions were," Susan suggested.

Hannah started by telling her tale. "So you were some kind of monstrous Spanish scavenger bird?" Harry asked, to which she gave an affirmative nod.

Tracey, who had already read most of their animal guide, gasped. "I remember reading about something … it was often found in mountainous regions in Southern Spain, I think it was called a Lammergeier."

Hannah snapped her fingers, a smile gracing her lips. "That was it! My form was a Lammergeier!" she crowed triumphantly at finally knowing. She then gave Blaise a look to tell him that it was his turn.

Being the social person that he was, he simply said, "Reticulated python," before burying his face in Hannah's hair.

"Of course he was the snake," Neville muttered. Blaise looked up to give him a faux affronted look, but lost it and chuckled softly.

Susan and Draco then revealed to be red and grey wolves respectively, and Tracey and Neville admitted to being Bengal tigers. Finally, it was Harry and Daphne's turn.

"I think we were some kind of a panther," he said. "But I'm not sure what type. It looked like a black panther, but we were able to completely blend into the darkness."

Hannah, whose mother was a Muggleborn witch, looked contemplating at that. "It could be a shadow panther. It's a bit of a Muggle legend, because it is like the black panther, but larger, darker, and more dangerous. There are some myths that it can travel from one shadow to another, anywhere in the world, but that is probably just that, a myth," she confided.

"So we have a reticulated python, a Lammergeier, a grey and red wolf, two Bengal tigers, and two shadow panthers," Harry mused. "A pretty decent all around group."

"Indeed," Neville affirmed, "But since we only have a couple more days until we leave, should we make our visit to the Chamber of Secrets now?"

The suggestion was agreed to by the rest of the group, as they still had to check for a Horcrux, and Harry and Daphne were interested in seeing if there were any books on Parseltongue – and a nice bed would be welcome, so Hannah and Blaise did not keep Draco and Susan awake any more, or vice versa, late into the night.

However, as they walked down the corridor of the second floor towards the Girl's bathroom, they were interrupted by a frantic Professor Minerva McGonagall. "What is it, Professor?" Neville asked politely. As far as he knew, she had had no action in the plot against his brother in all but blood.

"It is the Headmaster," she answered, breathing in deeply. "He is in the Hospital Wing … he wishes to see you, Mr. Potter."

* * *

**A/N: To give credit where credit is due, **_**rb2312**_** gave me the idea for the shadow panther. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and continues to do so. Next update will be somewhat dependent on my mood, because I have 3 tests, a project that makes up 15% of my mark, and an AP English exam this week. So, if I do badly on all of them, expect Harry to die in a sudden turn of events.**

**But that hopefully won't happen.**

_Edited: 08/04/13_


	15. Chapter 15 - The Next Great Adventure

**Disclaimer:** All rights go to J.K. Rowling

Chapter 15 – The Next Great Adventure

* * *

There was something profoundly awkward about walking into an Infirmary and seeing three out of the four people who had tried to ruin your life and cash in on your imminent death, on your way to see the fourth member of said group. At least, thus was the opinion of Harry James Potter, as he walked into the Hogwarts hospital wing, with his seven best friends walking next to him.

Inside the infirmary, Ronald Bilius Prewitt was spending his last few hours with his former sister and current girlfriend. He would hopefully be let out later that night, as his horribly broken leg was finally finished healing. He theorized that it took so long because Madam Pomfrey, resident Hogwarts Healer, intentionally diluted the potency of his Skele-Grow Potions. The idea that the Parseltongue lock may have been charmed to enhance the difficulty of healing from any injuries caused by said lock never even occurred to him.

When he had awoken, Hermione had been there, waiting for him. Apparently, she had blamed herself for his injury, because 'if she had let him sleep with her that night, he would not have done something stupid and injured himself.' She had promised to make up for it the night that he got out of the Infirmary. And hopefully most of the next day, unless it was their day to return home.

Sometimes, life was good.

The bed a couple over was completely closed off to them. They had seen the aged Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, walk in, and then it had been sanctioned off. Of course, the trio did not really care, because they considered him as responsible as Potter for the failure of their plans. For all they cared, he could just off and die, and the Wizarding World would be better off without the man who manipulated and then reverted halfway through the completion of his plans.

Hermione had just finished lecturing him on something - he had no idea what she was on about, Elf rights or their N.E. next year maybe; he was too busy staring at the globes of flesh that she had thankfully unveiled somewhat with the unbuttoning of the top few buttons of her uniform. She was evidently wearing that lacy black bra that he loved. She was also standing with one foot propped up against his bed, and he thanked Merlin for skirts, as he could see much of her milky legs, so long and perfectly toned ...

He was broken out of his trance by the door to the Infirmary opening.

Because Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting around the corner of the Hospital Wing, they could not immediately see who the new patient was. However, they could hear eight sets of footsteps, and soon, eight people made their way to Dumbledore's bed.

Madam Pomfrey went to chide them for coming in such a large quantity, when Professor McGonagall came around the bend as well.

Ron growled at the sight of the eight, but was particularly incensed at the sight of Potter. Standing next to him, Hermione glared at all of them, while Ginny just looked down, refusing to meet her Master's eyes. As of yet, he had yet to order her to do anything, but she knew that he eventually would, and she would have to be subservient to him and obey his commands, lest she lose her magic.

On the eight's side, none of them particularly reacted to this development. They had known that Ron was still in the hospital, and that there would, therefore, be a good chance of running into them. Draco and Blaise, in their sadistic glory, had been rather hoping that Ron would still be in immense pain from the effects of Harry's lock. Unfortunately, it seemed that it was not as long lasting as they had hoped.

But they were not there to mess around with Prewitt, Granger, and No-Name. They were there for a purpose: meeting with the esteemed Headmaster.

So apart from Neville giving the three a one fingered salute behind his back as he walked past them, and Hannah fighting off the urge to shoot an overpowered Stinging Hex at Ron's groin, the eight walked past them with their heads held high and emotionless faces.

Once they swept the curtains back and entered Dumbledore's bed area, they noticed that Severus Snape, Potions master and nemesis of all things soap, sitting on a seat next to the Headmaster. The old man himself lay horizontally along the bed, and they had to suppress a shiver at sight of his arm, blackened and gnarled.

All eight felt a lurch in their stomach, and sudden feeling of doom settled within them. His voice was barely above a whisper, but all in the room could hear it. "You are dying, aren't you sir?"

Dumbledore looked at his pupil sadly. "Indeed I am, Mr. Potter. And I believe that you have long ago earned the right to call me 'Albus.'"

Harry knew that this was likely Albus' last try at patching things up with him.

And who was he to deny an old man's last wishes?

"And you may call me Harry ... Albus."

The old man's face broke out into a smile, before a prod from the greasy haired man next to him had him turning serious once again.

"As you had guessed, Harry," he began, clearly relishing the opportunity to call his favourite student by name once again. "I am dying from a curse that I, in my ignorance, picked up from one of Tom Riddle's horcruxes." He gave a sheepish look at that.

"The ring," Neville prompted.

Eye twinkle at full strength, Albus replied, "Ah, I was wondering if you would tell your friends about Tom's method of immortality. Anyways, it is my belief that the only remaining horcruxes are you yourself and the snake Nagini, a relic from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, as well as the locket. Speaking of which, I suggest you consult with your godfather regarding the mysterious R.A.B." His tone was mischievous at the end, as though he knew exactly who R.A.B. was and simply wanted to test Harry and his friends.

One of the eight was able to quickly connect the dots. "You mean Uncle Reggy?" Draco asked, before flushing the same colour of Susan's hair. "Er ... my mother's cousin, Regulus Arcturus Black. His initials were R.A.B, and he was Sirius' brother. Also, he fought on Voldemort's side in the last war as a Death Eater, but died mysteriously. Everyone thought he no longer had the guts to continue, but now it may have been because he had learned how twisted Voldemort had become..." he trailed off, brushing a tear out of his eye. He had always thought that his Uncle Reggy, as he has referred to him in his childhood, had been a servant of the Dark Lord until the end.

Albus smiled gently, confirming that it was indeed 'Uncle Reggy.' Harry was covering his mouth with his hands, but finally said, quirking an eyebrow, "Uncle Reggy?"

Draco flushed again, and Harry laughed loudly. Albus smiled at this, as he had not heard the young adult truly laugh in a long time. Draco slapped Harry up the back of his head, but otherwise did nothing.

"On to more serious business," Albus continued. "I believe that I only have a couple of more hours in this plane of existence at the very most. Even that may be a stretch, as the curse has been leeching my magic and energy from me most of the year. Harry, I must emphasize the need for you to return to Privet Drive with your relatives, at least until you turn seventeen and the wards go down."

Harry almost cursed at the old man for trying to guilt him. He growled audibly, but tried to think of a logical reason not to return, for nothing less than that would suffice. Quickly finding a suitable solution, he addressed the usually benevolent old man.

"With all due respect, Albus, I feel that the wards are complete poppycock now. Since Tom took my blood at the end of the third task, he technically has my mother's blood within him, and can therefore walk into Privet Drive whenever he wants to. Personally, I feel that I would be much safer at a Potter home, or in Grimmauld Place with Sirius where the Fidelius is in place, or even with one of my friends here," he concluded, gesturing to the seven next to him. "I do, however, plan on visiting them at the very beginning of summer, to warn them that they should probably leave soon. And to rub into Dudley's face how hot my girlfriend is," he added, earning him a kiss – and a light smack – from Daphne.

Albus looked calculating for a second, before sighing wearily and brushing a gnarled hand through his silver hair. "I must admit that I am rather disappointed in myself for not noticing that," he confessed. "Now, onto our final order of business, could you sate an old man's curiosity and inform me of your plans for the final showdown with Tom and Nagini?"

It was Daphne who responded this time. "The idea was to destroy the locket as soon as we found it, and then destroy Nagini while Harry fought Tom. Hopefully, we will find a way to get the piece of soul out of Harry without his death. We were also going to check the Chamber of Secrets to see of Tom had hidden anything there. Knowing his arrogance, it would not surprise us if he did not think anyone would ever find it again."

The dying Headmaster looked contemplative at that. "Indeed, that seems like your best course of action. If I may be so bold, if you can not find anything in Salazar's room, perhaps you could check Rowena's? And also, when were you planning on having the final battle?"

"The final battle will likely be some time next year. I want to spend the summer training as much as I can and spend as much time as I can with Daphne," Harry admitted. Mentally, he added that he would also like to master his inner panther, and read more of Morgana Le Fay's works. So far, he had read the first few chapters of her volume, _A Study of Dark Magicks_, but he had to wait until he was out of Hogwarts (for safety reasons. After all, he would not want to accidentally use on of those curses on a passer by. Although, he would be okay if it was Prewitt) and turned seventeen to do anything practical. "But I must admit, I am rather ... flummoxed ... as to Rowena's room."

Susan was the first to figure it out. "I remember reading an old legend, that all four founders had a secret room. Salazar had the Chamber of Secrets, and Godric and Helga's were never found. Nor was Rowena's; however, there was a rumour that hers was a room that could change to fit the user's needs."

Draco gasped, as did the other seven. "And what better place to hide a relic of Ravenclaw's then in her own secret room?"

Albus nodded sagely, before waving his healthy hand dismissively. "I believe that my hour is coming, and that it is time for you to leave. I want you to know that I believe in each and every one of you."

The group stepped out and left, all saying their last respects to the dying man. They hardly spared a glance at the trio; however, Hannah felt her rage once again boil up in her at the sight of the red headed arse that did his best to ruin one of her best friends' life.

As they left the Infirmary, she reached out and grabbed Harry by the arm. As his eyebrows rose in question, she asked, "Do you have your Cloak with you?"

In response, Harry pulled out his shrunken Invisibility Cloak, and expanded it to its normal size. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I need it," she answered, evading the question. Harry sighed, but looked amused nonetheless.

"I better not regret this," he muttered as she took the offered cloak and put it on.

A figure brushed next to him, and he heard Hannah's disembodied voice. "I'll be back in less than a minute."

Hannah took a moment to compose herself, before taking out her wand and walking back into Madam Pomfrey's territory. Channelling her anger, she sent a highly overpowered Stinging Hex at her target.

Judging by the high pitched squeal, Ron was in a hell of a lot of pain. Unfortunately, Pomfrey bustled in less than ten seconds later, and began casting numbing spells and healing charms. Shame. Hannah had really hoped that she may have ruined any chances of him getting intimate with Hermione that night. Next time, she would just have to use a Severing Charm at his gonads.

True to her word, only forty seconds past before she returned, looking very satisfied with herself. Having heard the squeal of pain, Harry simply said, "Remind me never to get on your bad side." Hannah patted his cheek, before skipping off to join Blaise.

Daphne walked over to Harry, and grasped his hand. "How are you dealing with all of this?" she asked, making a wide, all-encompassing gesture with her hand.

"Honestly, I feel sort of guilty, but mainly because I feel like I should be a lot sadder than I am."

"Well, he did have a large part in fucking you over royally," she placated. "But enough of that!" Harry was surprised by her sudden cheeriness. "Let's go Horcrux hunting!"

As the group of eight walked up to the second floor corridor, there was a sudden rumbling throughout the castle. The portraits flickered, and for a moment, the paintings within lost their locomotion. After a moment, the rumbling stopped with a sudden quake, and the portraits returned to normal, though they seemed to move faster, and shine brighter.

Harry and Daphne had to hold on to each other to stay standing, and a cursory look showed that the same held true to Susan, Draco, Neville, and Tracey. Blaise and Hannah had completely lost their balance. However, Harry found it somewhat suspicious, because Hannah had 'accidentally' landed on top of Blaise, with his arms around her waist, roaming the expanses of her back and rear, their lips already attached.

Two mild Stinging Hexes later - one from Draco to Blaise's shoulder, the other from Susan, impacting with Hannah's pert rear - and the group had continued on their way with only Neville's single comment.

"Looks like Dumbledore is on to the next great adventure."  
Unbeknownst to the octet, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress – now Headmistress – staggered in her spot, standing at the foot of Albus' bed. She felt the sudden loss of power as the wards connecting to her had updated themselves, followed by a sudden influx of power. It was as if the ambient magic within Hogwarts, and Hogwarts herself, had latched on to her magical core and strengthened it.

Indeed, throughout the magical school, Muggleborn and Pureblood students alike commented on the sudden change, remarking that it was if the school itself had become younger, and had more ambient magic within it.

In Yorkshire, England, a woman panted one final time, as did the man above her, her curly red hair matted with sweat framing her glistening body.

The actual house that the middle aged pair were in belonged to the woman's family. It was not in the greatest condition, but it functioned well enough for her to live there. The steps creaked a bit too much, and she had to clean two decades worth of dust off the shelves, but it was a minor nuisance.

Albert Runcorn was a Death Eater who had been promoted to the Inner Circle ranks after the disastrous attempt at Hogwarts, which had resulted in almost half of the Dark Lord's finest dying.

She thought back to the letter that her son – now her only son – had sent her. He had said that he and his girlfriend were willing to do anything to get back at the Potter brat. He had even hinted that working with the Dark Lord would not be disagreeable to him.

"So Albert," she moaned, pressing her chest against his and pulling his neck to look straight at the creamy skin of her breasts. "Do you think you could get me, my son, and his girlfriend inducted into the Dark Lord's ranks?"

Albert's eyes widened, and he licked his lips slightly in anticipation. He kissed her neck gently, and murmured, "Of course. But it may be difficult for the Mudblood, as the Dark Lord is reluctant to let such people in. However, if she can prove herself in combat, she will be admitted. You and your son will only have to swear fealty to the Dark Lord, as will she if she survives."

Her response was a throaty whisper, "What is her combat test?"

"Normally, it would be to survive five minutes with Bellatrix Lestrange – which no one has done yet, save for the Dark Lord himself. However, as she has left the Dark Lord's ranks, she will likely have to run the gauntlet against three Death Eaters. We have not had any Mudblood potentials since Lestrange left, but I would guess she would have to defeat two trained Death Eaters – maybe Theodore Nott Sr. and myself, for example – and a trainee, such as the young Crabbe or Goyle, or Higgs."

"And by defeat …"

"Incapacitate or kill," he clarified. "She will also be required to successfully use at least one Unforgivable during a duel. Your son will also have to do the traditional inductions; namely, killing an innocent, and raping a virgin. Regarding what you and, should she survive, the Mudblood, will have to do, you would need to confer with Alecto Carrow because, as far as I know, she is the only female Death Eater left."

She let out a sigh of relief and lightly stroked his bare chest; at least her soon to be daughter-in-law would not have to fight the maniacal Bellatrix Lestrange. "Thank you, Albert ... and I suggest you refrain from calling her a Mudblood. While you could get away with it with most people, she would likely make what we just did very difficult for you to ever replicate."

His reply was barely audible as he had buried his head in her ample bosom. "Of course, Molly."

Molly Prewitt smiled in a very self-satisfied manner. Albert was well off, so maybe her children would finally get some wealth. It would not be too difficult to get Runcorn to marry her. After all, thanks to Arthur, she had plenty of knowledge regarding the bedroom – how else would she have had seven children? Also, joining the Dark Lord's army would make it easier for them to dispatch of Potter, and then they could get her dear Ginny back.

Molly Prewitt - soon to be Runcorn - was very happy with herself.

The next day, Albert Runcorn woke up to a bright light shining in his eyes. He tried to move away from the force of nature that he detected as the Sun, but found that he could not move.

For a second, he thought he was chained up as a prisoner to the Order of the Phoenix, or what was left of the joke commonly referred to as the Ministry of Magic. However, he quickly remembered the last night's activities, and a goofy smile rose to his lips.

He opened his eyes again, blinking away the last holds of sleep, and looked down to confirm his suspicions. His smile widened as he saw the red hair covering his chest, her legs intertwined with his, and her breasts pleasantly pushing against his flesh.

Slowly and carefully, anxious to avoid waking up his lover, he removed himself from her grasp. He gave her one last, long, lusting look after he had changed, letting his eyes roam over her curved body, before writing a note, placing a conjured rose on it (he may be a Death Eater, but that did not mean that Albert Runcorn did not know how to woo a woman), kissed her forehead gently, and left without a sound.

After he stepped out of the small house, he Apparated with a thought and a twist of his torso, and found himself standing on the front steps of Nott Manor.

He could only hope that his Master would be pleased with the new members. The Mudblood Granger was rumoured to be extremely intelligent, while Molly Prewitt was known to be more than capable with a wand, though she rarely broadcasted it, instead preffering childbirth.

He swept into the Manor, paying no attention to the high hedges, carefully cultivated gardens (by House Elves, of course), or ominous statues of Muggles and Mudbloods standing underneath Wizards and Witches.

To his surprise and great luck, the Dark Lord was alone, with only his great Snake and familiar Nagini slithering around his shoulders. He sat on a tall, straight backed chair, which Albert walked straight to.

Approaching his Master, he bent down and kissed the hem of his robes. "Master."

"What is it, Runcorn?" The Dark Lord's voice was cold and unyielding, shooting sparks of fear into the bravest of men's heart.

"I bring you news, My Lord, of three new recruits, one of which, I believe can replace Bellatrix in time."

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who are these three?"

"The powerful witch I mentioned was Molly Prewitt, as well as her son Ron Weasley, and … his Mudblood girlfriend. Hermione Granger."

The Dark Lord's lips twisted into a feral grin. "Indeed? Very well … send for Lords Parkinson and Nott, as well as trainee Terence Higgs." As Runcorn nodded quickly, kissed the hems of his robes again, and rushed off, Lord Voldemort grinned to himself.

The boy, Ron Prewitt, could have some potential, if he could get his head out his arse and actually study and use some effort. Molly Prewitt could almost make a decent replacement to Bellatrix, and combined with the Mudblood, things could get interesting.

And from the Dark Lord, 'decent' was the highest praise one could get.

* * *

**A/N: I noticed I did not get as many reviews as usual last chapter, maybe because Ron was not harmed? Well, I added in a bit of Ron-harming for this chapter. **

**However, I must warn you, my dear readers, that Ron and Hermione will not be outrageously weak. If you are totally against a strong enemy ... then goodbye. Anyways ... I did not kill off Harry! That is good news, right?  
Congratulations to those of you who figured out Dumble's time was coming. **

**Anyways, anyone have any ideas for Hermione and Molly's induction?**

**Also, if you have an idea for Harry's Horcrux, let me know. I have an idea, but if you give me a better idea, I'll use it. **

**In regards to the Chamber of Secrets expedition, that'll be next chapter; I just felt like putting the Molly scene here. **

**With McGonagall, I'm not saying that she is any more powerful than Dumbles, but she is younger, so it was like the Wards refreshed. I also felt that the Headmaster/ mistress would, for lack of a better word, leech off of the ambient magic within Hogwarts.**

**Thanks for your continued reading. Until next time!**

_Edited: 08/04/13_


	16. Chapter 16 - Diadem

**Disclaimer**: All rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 16 – Diadem

_'Open.' _

The group was unable to suppress a shudder at the sound of Harry's voice coming out in such a rasping, unintelligible way, except for Blaise.

Blaise understood Harry's order easily, and was confused as to why everyone else seemed shaken, before he put two and two together, and realized that he could understand Parseltongue now due to his Animagus abilities as a serpent.

A feminine voice startled him out of his musings. "Is everything alright, love?"

He looked over at Hannah, the movement causing a swift jerk of his head. He shook himself for a moment, before he realized that that motion could be construed as a negative regarding his well being, and hastily nodded instead. "Yes, I was simply surprised by the fact that I could understand Parseltongue. Sorry if I worried you, amore."

A few feet away from him, Draco Lucius Malfoy pulled out his wand, and slashed it downwards. Susan looked at him in shock, before chuckling as the motion caused a whipping sound.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, very funny, Draco."

"I'm saying that you're whipped," he clarified.

"Yeah, I get it." At this point, Harry, Susan, Neville, and Tracey were laughing loudly at how strange of a moment that was, while Daphne, in all of her 'Ice Queen' splendour, simply looked amused. Blaise wore an indignant look, and Draco had a very self-satisfied smirk. Finally, Hannah looked proud of how she had Blaise wrapped around her finger.

"Anyways," Harry said, drawing out the first syllable. "This place looks even dirtier than it did four years ago."

"Then clean it," Daphne replied, nose upturned mockingly.

"Of course, milady," Harry said dryly. "Unfortunately, I am not sure that even I am powerful enough to clean it by myself."

"Arrogant prat."

"That's rich coming from you, Malfoy."

"Yes. I am rich. Your point?"

"Still a pauper compared to me."

"At least I am good looking."

Harry walked over to Draco, and patted his shoulder condescendingly. "Sure you are, Draco. Sure you are." The other six looked on, amused at their banter.

Finally, Tracey intervened. "How about you debate your good looks later, and we search for a Horcrux now?"

"Aha! So you admit I'm good looking?"

"So not the point, Draco."

"Right," it was Harry that cut them off this time. "I have an idea."

After he gave his instructions, Blaise took Hannah's left hand in his right. Her right went in Susan's left, whose right went in Draco's left. So it continued, with Tracey, Neville, Daphne, and culminating with Harry, whose right hand was free. He took out his wand in his free hand, and continued with his instructions.

"I want all of you to focus on your magic, and imagine you are casting a Cleaning Spell. Then, picture the magic flowing into your hand, and pass it on to the hand holding yours, while taking the magic from the person to your left Hopefully, this will cause our magic to literally flow between us, and I will channel all of it, as well as my own, into my wand. Understood?"

As everyone nodded their assent, Hannah looked at Blaise, and he slowly found his core, and channelled it into his right hand, where it passed on into Hannah's. After thirty seconds or so, Harry felt a sudden influx of cleaning magic. Focussing on it, as well as his own magic, and incanted, "Scourgify!"

The bright flash that resulted was like nothing Harry had ever seen, even when he had shone a flashlight in his eyes when he was six. After a few moments, it gradually declined, and the group rubbed their eyes to aid their vision.

"Damn," Tracey said, summing up all of their thoughts in one word. Peering into the tube, she added, "Now that is what I call clean."

"Too bad it still would not be enough to clean Snape's hair," Neville said mournfully.

Ignoring them, Harry walked over to the tube. "Who wants to go first?" he asked.

"Charge ahead, brave lion!" Daphne replied, and, stepping forward, pushed him playfully into the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry's arms flailed wildly, trying to gain purchase in the air. Despite his best efforts, he flew down the tunnel, wincing in pain as his shoulder crunched as it made impact with a wall, and his head bumped against the walls occasionally. After an hour – or perhaps it was a minute – he was thrown out of the tunnel, only to land awkwardly on his ankle. "Oh for fuck's sake!" he complained loudly, before shouting, "I'm down!"

He cast a Cushioning Charm on the ground in a ten square feet area by the mouth, before transfiguring a few pebbles into a sling, cast, and crutches. With a few sweeps of his wand, the cast and sling were in place and tightened.

After a few moments, in which he gazed in awe at how much cleaner the Chamber was than last time, he heard the sound of Daphne screaming getting closer, a sound that had become familiar due to their 'Muggle expeditions.' The trips often included the other six, though Blaise and Hannah had not joined as much. Until the previous few weeks, they had not been quite as much of a part of the group, though they were definitely involved. They often journeyed to Amusement Parks, and had especially enjoyed the roller coasters and thus, Harry heard Daphne scream quite often during the summers.

Of course, he also heard her scream every night – and not because she had nightmares.

Eventually, Daphne popped out of the chute, landing on her beautiful rear. Harry was quite happy that he had cast the Cushioning Charm, as he would hate to see anything happen to her derriere.

She popped up, and called "Next!" before even taking a look at Harry. As a result, she fell back onto her bum as she did notice him, with a cast on his arm and leg, crutches under his under arms, and a small stream of blood seeping down his forehead. Through it all, he still smiled as he saw her.

"Enjoy the ride?" he asked, grinning mischievously. "I do not think that I have heard you scream that loudly since ... well last night, to be honest."

She looked like she would smack his shoulder, but thought better of it, opting instead for a concerned look. "What happened to your shoulder and leg?"

"Technically, it is just my ankle," he corrected. "Let us just say that I landed badly," he lied, so that Daphne did not felt guilty for pushing him.

She seemed like she would further pursue the topic, but was halted as she had to dive out of the way as the mass of red curls known as Susan Bones appeared. "Done!" she called, before she stated breathlessly, "What a rush! That was fucking awesome! Hannah will be nex- Harry! What happened?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. She had yet to get off of her arse, but as she showed no signs of movement, he said, "I did not set up the Cushioning Charm until after I had come down."

"Ah," Susan replied, before she got up and had to hurry out of Hannah's way.

After she had brushed off her own rear - what was it with girls and landing on their bums? - she notified the remaining four that it was safe, and got out of the way of any impending students. "Woah! What happened?"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "How about I just explain to everyone when they get here?" he pleaded.  
Fine," she acquiesced, and began to tap her thighs impatiently.

Suddenly unable to listen to her rhythmic taps anymore, he blurted out, "Fine! I fell awkwardly! Happy?"

"Very." Her response came with a smile that displayed her satisfaction with how easily she was able to make Harry tell her. "Wait, how did falling awkwardly injure your shoulder and forehead, too?"

He had given her an urgent look, as if trying to stop her from continuing, but she just ploughed onwards. By this point, Daphne and Susan looked interested in their conversation, and Harry realized that any attempts to delay his answer would meet deaf ears.

And Daphne could be very persuasive when she wanted to be.

Harry sighed audibly; he had hoped that he would not have had to do this, as it could – and likely would – hurt Daphne emotionally, as she would feel guilt for causing Harry's injuries.

"When Daphne pushed me down the chute, I hit my shoulder. I am not sure how the facial injuries occurred, but I probably nicked my head against the wall. And the ankle ... well, as I said, I fell awkwardly. That much was the truth."

Hannah's eyes widened in realization that her inquiring mind made Harry admit that Daphne was, at least in part, responsible for his injuries.

Daphne looked on the verge of tears as she learned that she had harmed Harry so badly, and went to pull him into a hug. "I am so sorry ... so, so sorry," she whispered.

Harry patted her back consolingly with his good arm, whispering nonsensical noises to assuage her worries of harming him.

After a few more minutes, Neville, Tracey, Draco, and Blaise descended down to the Chamber, and Harry felt a sadistic sense of pleasure as the three boys landed awkwardly, too – and Tracey landed on her posterior, as well. Once they were all there, Harry explained his injuries again, without casting any blame on Daphne. This time, no one commented on his upper body injuries, though Blaise looked like he was going to, but was silenced by an elbow and meaningful look from Hannah.

"So," mused Neville, "How long do you guys think it will take for us to complete the Animagus transformations?"

Harry pursed his lips in thought. "Well, it took the Marauders a few years, but they were hindered by Pettigrew. Also, we have the shortcuts that they discovered, so that will doubtlessly be helpful. All in all, we could get it over the summer, but considering our conditions, what with the war and all that ... if we continue during the school year, maybe by Yuletide at the earliest."

Neville seemed satisfied by the answer, while Tracey apparently had another question. "What are we doing for the summer?"

This time, it was Daphne who had a ready answer. "Harry and I are spending the first few weeks breaking in Marauders' Island. Then, we'll meet you six at Neville's place for their birthdays at the end of June, and me and Harry will spend the rest of our summer at Potter's Manor. You guys can join us whenever you want – but considering that Marauders' is uninhabited, odds are that we will make it a nude beach."

Predictably, Neville, Draco, and Blaise immediately professed their willingness to spend the summer there.

Marauders' Island. It was a property of Harry's that he had inherited from his father. Technically, he was only a quarter owner, but due to Sirius' incarceration, Pettigrew's 'death', and Remus' position as a Werewolf (the bigots of the Wizarding World, such as Dolores Umbridge, had passed many laws prohibiting lycanthropes from owning property), he had almost full control over it.

The Island itself was near Corsica, off the coast of Italy. It had been inhabited by wizards in the early nineteen hundreds, but they had been killed by Grindelwald. James, Sirius, Pettigrew, and Remus had purchased it, keeping it invisible to Muggles, in 1977. It was James himself who had instilled the 'nude beach' rule, and had gone on vacation with Lily there immediately after his declaration.

Potter Manor was, as the name suggests, the ancestral home of the Potter family. It was in Bristol, under several Protective Charms to keep away wizards and Muggles alike. The only reason that James and Lily had moved into Godric's Hollow was their fear that Voldemort would destroy the Manor if he found it, destroying – or, even worse, taking centuries of Potter knowledge with him, including their Grimoire.

The Potters had been powerful Battle Mages for only a few centuries, since the fifteen hundreds, around the same time that the House of Malfoy emigrated from France. As a result, their Grimoire had close to five hundred years worth of battle spells that Voldemort could have never imagined. Once they settled there, Harry and Daphne planned on thoroughly reading through it.

Before they were Battle Mages, the Potters were, as the name suggests, involved with pottery. The family came into wealth while in Rome during the time of the Emperor Caligula - the same Emperor that tried to get his favourite horse elected as consul. They became trade partners with the House of Bones and, when they settled in England in the early eleven hundreds, the House of Longbottom, which had recently emigrated from Sweden, and was a prominent Viking clan.

"I also want to make a quick trip to Gringotts; see if Morgana LeFay had any more books, especially on combat magic or souls."

Daphne looked sadly at Harry after his seemingly offhand comment. She knew how much the Horcrux was affecting him, and how worried he was that he would have to die or, even worse, Voldemort's soul took over his body.

The search in Salazar's Chamber was not quite fruitless. While they found no parts of Voldemort's soul, Harry did find an interesting book that seemed to be in a strange language - except to him and Blaise.

"A book on Parseltongue and Parselmagic by Salazar Slytherin himself," Blaise said, his awe-filled expression free for all to see.

After Harry and Daphne shared a meaningful look at the bedroom in Salazar's room – complete with a King-sized bed with silver and green blankets, the eight left the bowels of the castle in search of Rowena Ravenclaw's lost Diadem, a Basilisk fang in each of their pockets for just in case they came across a Horcrux, especially Nagini.

A long walk seemed about to ensue, but Harry, still in pain from his fall, simply called, "Dobby!"

A _crack!_ alerted the others to the presence of the House-Elf. Well, the crack and said House-Elf's fervent declarations of how great Harry Potter was.

"Master Harry Potter is too good, calling upon Dobby!"

An embarrassed Harry tried to calm down the excitable Elf. "Dobby, I need you to bring me to the Come-And-Go room," he said, referring to the Elves' name for the Room of Requirement.

"Of course, Master Harry Potter sir! I bez bringing youz and Mistress Daffy there right now!"

With that, Dobby brought Harry and a blushing Daphne to the seventh floor corridor. Once they arrived, Harry muttered a 'suggestion' to the excitable House Elf. Dobby chuckled, before leaving. Back in the seventh floor, the other six just stared at where there friends had been only moments before, bewildered. Another crack accompanied the other five being transported to the Room, leaving a cursing Draco Malfoy alone.

It was close to half an hour later that Draco arrived. "You guys are all arseholes," he muttered, to chuckles from his friends.

Harry, who had been waiting impatiently for the Malfoy scion, began walking back and forth, before stopping suddenly.  
"I have no idea what to think about."

"Well, Riddle would have hidden it quickly ... hidden! Ask for a room of hidden things!" Tracey suggested.

Harry and the others agreed with Tracey's idea, and they soon found themselves in a room packed full of junk. Harry noticed the Half-Blood Prince's copy of his Potions textbook and face-palmed as he realized that he had already been in this room.

"Where should we start?" Neville asked, but Harry had already started walking. He stretched out his senses, and followed a warm feeling that felt eerily familiar.

He wound through the columns, until he finally stopped before a hideous looking bust, with an old crown on its head. "There it is," he said, pointing at the old crown.

The other seven, who had been following him, looked bemused at his comment, thinking that Rowena's Diadem would look much more reverent, even if it had been defiled by Dark Magics.

"Are you sure?" Hannah asked sceptically.

Harry simply grabbed the Diadem and raised it off of the bust reverently, and looked like he was going to cradle it to his bosom and declare, "My precious!" for a moment.

However, he braced it against the floor, and looked towards Daphne. "You destroy it, Mistress Daffy," he teased, causing Daphne to swat his arm gently, before pulling a fang out of her pocket carefully.

Positioning the fang directly above the Diadem, Daphne could see Harry's arms tense as the Diadem began to fight against him, so she quickly stabbed downwards.

A pained scream was heard throughout the room, and most of the castle, as a black smoke flew out of the Diadem, and slowly dissipated.

"Well ... that's finally over," Blaise said, causing a few laughs to erupt from his friends.

Within a few minutes, the Room of Requirement underwent some serious changes, as it converted into a bedroom. Hannah and Blaise had gone to the Hufflepuff rooms, with Tracey taking Neville into the Snake's den. Meanwhile, Harry and Daphne had gone to the Hospital Wing, where they discovered that the Weasel was still there, and would have to stay another night with a 'lower body injury.'

Harry himself learned that he had a broken ankle and a dislocated shoulder, as well as a few scrapes and bruises. However, a painful pop and a vial of a foul-tasting Potion consumed later, a limping Harry and Daphne were on their way to Salazar's chambers to 'investigate.'

After all, they still had an hour and a half left until dinner.

Meanwhile, Susan and Draco had stayed behind in the Room of Requirement. Within a minute of the other six leaving for their separate (and amorous) directions, Draco was already down to only his boxers, with Susan in her bra and knickers, when she suddenly stopped, just before she would have unhooked her bra.

"Today has been really tiring ... can we just cuddle until dinner?"

Draco eagerly complied, as he had begun to feel that she was with him mainly for the sex, since that was all they did while alone – not that he was complaining.

Still almost completely naked, the young couple crept underneath the bed sheets, Susan curling into Draco's chest, her back facing his front.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her warm body even closer to his. "Susan?" he asked tentatively, after a few minutes had passed.  
"I just wanted to say that ... I have been thinking a lot lately, and I realized that ... I-I love you, Suzy."

She turned around, eyes wide at his declaration. He felt his heart plummet at her lack of a response, until she replied, "I love you, too," before snogging him to the point that he was incapable of speech.  
Susan giggled at his look, before saying, "Hey ... remember how earlier, I said I wanted to just cuddle?"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Yeah?"

She smiled at him, before whispering into his ear seductively, "I think we should do more than that now."

He was only too happy to comply.

* * *

Although the eight did not know, Ron and Hermione had an interesting conversation while the rest of the school was having dinner.

"I still can hardly believe that you are willing to join the Death Eaters."

Hermione sighed, and lay down next to Ron, taking away the view of her legs that he had been ogling for the past two hours. "Well, I want to be on your side, no matter what," she began, "And this is the best way I can think of to get rid of Potter for everything that he has done. With Dumbledore out of the way now, no one is going to stop us from manipulating the idiot, and with the Dark Lord on our side, he will never know what hit him."

"But still," he faltered a moment, before continuing. "They kill Muggles for fun … I am surprised that you are willing to join them, that's all."

"It is the lesser of two evils, Ronald," she explained.

"I guess," he offered, though it was obvious that he did not understand.

"So, Molly was able to get us a chance to make their ranks?" she asked eagerly.

He smiled at her inquisitiveness, and kissed her forehead. "I do not know yet. I sent her the letter last night, and she said that she would talk to a guy named 'Runcorn.' Apparently, he is pretty high up on the Death Eater's hierarchy."

"Well, that's good, I suppose," she commented, before kissing him on the lips. The kiss was chaste, but with a promise for more. "I should get going to dinner, but I will see you tomorrow. The trip back to King's Cross is in two days, so we can spend a lot of time together."

She winked and walked away, making sure to swing her hips as she walked. Tomorrow, they would shag like bunnies. And they day after that, they would change the world.

* * *

"I hereby call this Hogwarts Staff meeting to order."

Everyone in the Headmistress' Office looked towards the new Headmistress. Minerva McGonagall sat up straight in her chair, as severe as ever. The evening previous had seen a very tense situation when she had announced that Albus had died, as the entire Great Hall had been chaotic. Many students realized how much their hopes lay with Harry Potter, as none of them were likely to actually take up arms – or wands – against a Dark Lord whose name they feared too much to even say.

"As new Headmistress, there are a few changes that I have to make. First and foremost, Professor Filius Flitwick will hereby be the new Deputy Headmaster. The new Head for Gryffindor House will be given to Professor Aurora Sinistra, and the new Transfigurations Professor will be Professor Andromeda Tonks. I communicated with her last night, and she agreed to take the position next year. I have accepted all of your suggestions for Prefects, and the only business left to take care of is the Head Boy and Girl for next year. Heads of Houses, any suggestions?"

Severus Snape stood up, scowling at the slight of not being the Deputy Headmaster. "I propose Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass as Head Boy and Girl."

Next was Pomona Sprout. "Susan Bones and Harry Potter."

"Terry Boot and Padma Patil." Flitwick's high voice greeted the Heads, as he suggested, unsurprisingly, two of his own. So far, Sprout's was the only surprise. The Headships were supposed to go to the two students with the majority of votes, but since the four Heads never left their own House, Dumbledore always had to mediate.

Finally, it was the new Head of Gryffindor, Aurora Sinistra. "Harry Potter … and Susan Bones."

McGonagall blinked; that was unexpected. "Very well. Harry Potter and Susan Bones will be the Head Boy and Girl next year. Any objections?" As no one objected, she continued, "I hereby adjourn this Staff meeting."

* * *

Far away from Hogwarts, the Dark Lord Voldemort sat in his throne of Muggle and Mudblood skulls and bones. In front of him, his entire Death Eater ranks stood, awaiting his orders.

"Send out letters to Smith, Goyle, Crabbe, Prewitt, the Mudblood Granger, and Edgecombe, as well as the other recruits at Hogwarts. For tomorrow, we strike a major blow against the light: tomorrow, we attack the Hogwarts Express!"

* * *

**A/N: So here is Chapter 16! I have to thank the Guest reviewer who said, "This story is painfully bad. I'm not going to give you reasons. It is just bad."**

**Honestly, that made my day. **

**Hope I explained why Hermione agreed to it, if not … oh well. I'm still taking suggestions on … well, everything and anything, really. Also, I hope that you're all ok with my decision to make Susan Head Girl. Oh well. Let me know regardless.**

**Until next Saturday!**


	17. Chapter 17 - The White Tomb

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter; all rights go to J.K.R.

Chapter 17 – The White Tomb

* * *

In Scotland, an elderly woman considered the recent staff meeting and its results.

Harry Potter being elected Head Boy, while not being a surprise, was still a surprise in its own way. The last time that the Head Boy had not been a Prefect was, ironically, James Potter.

The Gryffindor Prefects of that previous year had been Remus Lupin and Lily Evans, the eventual Lady Potter. And while Remus had been chosen as Head Boy originally, due to his intelligence and moral stances, the eventual Professor Lupin had begged off, stating that his condition had consequences that would make allotting the position to him a grave mistake.

Indeed, Minerva McGonagall felt that Remus had let his condition control his life.

While the British Ministry did have stark prejudices against werewolves that made it nearly impossible to get employment, Remus could have used his intelligence and natural skill to get a job elsewhere.

For example, he could easily have done what William "Bill" Weasley had done, and worked at Gringotts as a curse breaker. Among the Goblins, being a werewolf would not affect his employment. Also, having a record as Head Boy would definitely help him find employment.

However, he had let his lycanthropy control his life, and eventually, Albus Dumbledore, who had only had his position as Headmaster for a few years back then, had to make a difficult decision.

From Slytherin, he could choose Lucius Malfoy, but Lucius had been suspected of the rape of Marlene Wilkins, who would become Cormac McLaggen's mother. Admittedly, he would eventually be found innocent, as the culprit was, in fact, Gregory Goyle Sr. However, the facts that his alibi had involved being out several hours past curfew, Narcissa Black, and a broom closet, did not inspire confidence that he would make a good role model for the younger students.

The seventh year Ravenclaw, on the other hand, had been Xenophilius Lovegood – and while extremely intelligent, no one felt quite confident in him as Head Boy.

Finally, there was Amos Diggory, of Hufflepuff. But, while well liked, he was arrogant to a fault, and was not in Ravenclaw for a reason.

So, Headmaster Dumbledore had to, for the first time in several centuries, pick a non-Prefect for the position of Head Boy.  
That was where James Potter came in.

While James had been arrogant and mischievous prior to his sixth year Yule, the death of Dorea and Charlus, his parents, left him orphaned, Lord Potter, and with a lot of growing up to do. Surprisingly enough, he actually had matured and, by the end of the year, was at the top of his class at Transfiguration, and was dating Lily Evans.

This remarkable change made him the obvious choice to Albus, so he picked James as the Head Boy, and he exceeded all expectations.

However, Minerva's first year as Headmistress of Hogwarts had a non-Prefect as Head Boy for a very different reason.

Susan Bones had not been a surprise – Hermione Granger was never going to be considered after her actions, Daphne Greengrass was somewhat quick to anger and Padma Patil, while very intelligent (and, as she overheard Terry Boot say, super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot*), she was not nearly as likeable as Susan Bones.

Susan Bones, Minerva had to admit, was the perfect option for Head Girl. She embodied every trait that Lily Evans had in her youth; she was intelligent, but did not brag of it, she was charming, witty, popular, and – dare she say it – quite beautiful. Especially since herself, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis had formed their study group with Harry Potter.

Harry Potter.

Technically, it was not that much of a surprise to have the Boy-Who-Lived as Head Boy. However, the fact that he had never ascended to Prefect-dom was a surprise, and was evidence of the manipulations of one Albus Wulfrid Brian Percival Dumbledore.

Minerva had expected one of the previous Prefects to ascend to Head Boy, regardless if Harry had or had not been a Prefect. Ron Prewitt, obviously, would not have been an option, for much the same reasons as Ms. Granger.

That would have left Terry Boot, Draco Malfoy, and Ernie Macmillan. In Minerva's own unbiased view as the Headmistress, she would have been more than happy with any of those three as Head Boy.

However, Severus and Flitwick had been the only two that showed supreme loyalty – though some may call it bias – in electing their own students. Meanwhile Pomona and Aurora had gone for Mr. Potter, so technically, Aurora did stay within her own House, though it was not for her House's Prefect.

Pomona, rather than supporting Ernie, had gone with Harry. Perhaps it was because Ernie had been one of the first to blame Harry in second year; however, Ernie had likely matured quite a bit in the past four and a half years. She knew for a fact that he was likeable, trustworthy, and was nowhere near as arrogant as his housemate, Zacharias Smith. The only reasons that Minerva could think of were blatant favouritism towards the son of James and Lily Potter, Ernie's station as a regular old Purebloood, whilst Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, an heir of an Ancient and Most Noble House, and a beacon of hope to the Light, or that Pomona knew something about Ernie that no one else did.

And Minerva highly doubted Mr. Macmillan of any malicious intent towards anyone. Then again, she had held the same beliefs towards Ms. Granger, Mr. Prewitt, and Ginny prior to that year.

This line of thought brought Minerva to the actions of the three lions towards one of their own.

She had been appalled at how they, with the aid of the Headmaster, had treated the young man. He had always been an amazing specimen of a human being, and had managed to do what no one had done in a very long time - united the Houses. And while he technically never became great friends with any Ravenclaws, his friendships with Luna Lovegood, Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Padma Patil were still very strong.

Despite all of his virtues, the trio had only seen his vices. What vices they may have seen, Minerva had no idea, but jealousy, as she had learned during her many years as a Professor of Transfiguration, was a dangerous thing.

Jealousy on the part of Peter Pettigrew had been the cause of James Potter's death.

Jealousy on the part of Ronald Prewitt had nearly been the cause of Harry Potter's death.

Minerva hated herself for her own part in all of Harry's trials and tribulations over the year. Sure, she had never directly harmed Harry, but nor had she gone out of her way to help him.

First, she had allowed Dumbledore to place him with the Dursleys, who abused him for the first eleven years of his life. Then, in first year, she had completely ignored his claims that someone was going for the Philosopher's Stone, which resulted in his near death. Admittedly, no one would listen to a first year's claims that a nefarious plot was occurring, but she still could have sated his suspicious by checking to validate or rebut his claims. She had blatantly ignored the plethora of injuries that signified abuse, trusting in Dumbledore's obscure concept of the 'greater good.' And finally, when the poor boy had been tortured by that foul toad Umbridge, she had simply told him not to let it affect him and not to react!

Minerva McGonagall looked mournfully at her liquor cabinet, and reminded herself that at this time tomorrow, she could hit the firewhiskey, as the impressionable youths would be on their ways home.

However, before that, she had to get Dumbledore's funeral for that night ready.

* * *

"So what did the letter say, Ronald?"

Ron looked over at Hermione Granger affectionately - whether because of her inquisitive nature or the fact that she was currently naked, she knew not - and kissed the nape of her neck softly.

It had taken close to half an hour to persuade Madam Pomfrey to release Ron from her care for the night, but she eventually let him go. He had received a few pain relieving Potions for his "inflamed genitals," as she had diagnosed it. Whoever had cast the charm - evidently one of Harry's group, as they had been invisible - had put so much force into it that it was akin to shooting a Muggle paintball gun. And considering that those could cause serious bruising from a large distance with body armour on ... well, Ron was in a bad case until Pomfrey's first Numbing Charms.

Luckily, she had him fixed up quickly, and the young couple finally escaped the Infirmary, to plot and scheme and, eventually, make love.

And so, Ron had found himself waking up in the sixth year Girls Dormitory, an insistent, regal looking owl poking him with its beak and talons. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other squished between her right breast and the mattress, and her back pressed into his chest. He tried to extricate himself without waking her, but failed.

After he had read the letter - from his mother - he kissed her neck, causing her to groan. "Do not change the subject, Ronald."

He sighed in response. "It was a letter from my mum. The Dark Lord wants us to prove ourselves to him. His Death Eaters are attacking the Express tomorrow, and he wants us each to strike a blow against the Light, get off of the train, and get to his followers, where we will Apparate away with the other Junior Death Eaters."

Hermione bit her lower lip worriedly; however, her ambition to succeed in a sexist and medieval world wherein she could not do so without marrying a Pureblood won out. "Alright ... who should we target?"

"The letter says not to kill Potter. However, we should try to kill his friends, and capture the Greengrass slag."

Kill Abbot, Bones, and/or Davis? Gladly."

* * *

Most of that day seemed to be spent by students lazing around. The elder students engaged in more amorous activities, while the younger students played Gobstones, Chess, and a few pick-up Quidditch games. Dean Thomas tried to get a football game started, but apart from a few Muggleborns, there were not enough offers.

Other students, such as Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass, and his other six good friends sparred, verbally and magically. Finally, just before dinner and the subsequent funeral, the eight parted ways.

Harry and Daphne visited the Chamber of Secrets once again, to explore further and, ultimately, take a shower together to rid themselves of the sweat and grime that they had collected on their bodies over hours of battling Draco and Susan, Tracey and Neville, and Blaise and Hannah.

At first, the eight had gone into their couplets and battled one other couple. Then, they had the Slytherins against the other four, boys against girls, and Purebloods against Half-bloods (Blaise joined Hannah, Tracey, and Harry to even the sides). They even had individual duels, concluding in Harry defeating Draco, Neville and Blaise in a four-way battle, while Tracey did the same with the girls. It had looked as though Daphne would win, but while Susan fought her and Hannah lay unconscious, Tracey hit her with a simple Tripping Jinx from behind, followed by a Stunner at Susan, effectively ending the battle.

Harry had won nearly every bout that he was involved with, except for the girls against boys match, where the girls used their ... assets to distract their boyfriends long enough to incapacitate them.

After an unnecessarily long shower, the contented teenagers met up first with Tracey and Neville, so they braved the Slytherin table for dinner.

"What took you guys so long?" Neville asked, brown eyes glinting with mischief.

"I was enjoying a nice, _long_ shower," Harry replied, winking at Neville conspiratorially.

Daphne slapped his arm, but did nothing to deny his claim. Instead, she leaned into his shoulder, and began picking away at some potatoes.

Moments later, a very dishevelled Blaise Zabini appeared, one arm wrapped around an equally dishevelled Hannah Abbot's waist, followed by Susan Bones and Draco Malfoy a few minutes later.

The greatest surprise, of course, was the Ravenclaw with blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes that sat down with them.

"Oh, hey Luna; I haven't seen you in a while," Harry said.

"I fear not, Harry Potter," she replied in her breathy, ethereal voice. "I had noticed that Michael Corner had a Nargles infestation, and decided to help him get rid of them."

"And how did you do that, Luna?" Neville asked politely, taking a sip from his glass of pumpkin juice – a fatal mistake.

"I helped him ejaculate, of course!" she said, grinning coyly.

Neville snorted (quite out of place on a proper Pureblood) his pumpkin juice, even spewing some out of his nostrils. Between this and Luna's comment, most of the group was laughing. Even Draco, employing all of his Malfoy manners, and Daphne, using her Ice Queen façade, seemed to barely keep themselves together.

"So ... uh, are you dating Michael Corner, then?" Blaise questioned, making sure not to go for his juice.

"It depends ..." She paused for a moment, clearly in thought. "Does copulating several times a day make us 'dating'?" She asked back, presenting an innocent visage. "Anyways," she continued, apparently oblivious to Draco's guffaws. "Where have you been lately, Harry Potter?"

"Oh, this and that," Harry said vaguely. How was he to explain that he had been ignoring her and some of his better friends – Padma Patil, Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan and the likes, to hang out with his other friends (and to shag frequently)?

"May I take that to mean near constant copulation with Daphne Greengrass?" she asked, looking pointedly at the Greengrass heiress, causing blushes from her and Harry, and laughter from the other six.

Harry looked as though he was going to respond, but was interrupted by the new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, rising to speak to the entire magical school.

"I welcome all of you, to this final feast of this school year of nineteen ninety-six to nineteen ninety-seven. It is with great sorrow that I announce that the funeral of the former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, will commence immediately. You all have half an hour to freshen up."

Harry looked to Daphne. At her acquiescing motion, the two rose to their feet. "Well, my friends," he said, looking at the other eight gathered around him, as Michael Corner had joined once he arrived and saw Luna. They had managed to make him blush quite profusely as they questioned him about Luna's statements regarding his apparent difficulties 'getting it up,' as the saying goes.

"The Lady and I shall heed the esteemed Headmistress' advice, and freshen up. Shall we reconvene at the funeral?" The others nodded their heads – well, Hannah and Tracey giggled at Harry's attempt at etiquette, and Luna stared dreamily at the setting Sun portrayed on the ceiling.

Soon after, the entire group had disbanded. This time, only Harry and Daphne did not go back to their own Common Room, as Harry had all but left Gryffindor House and, after one night in the Slytherin Commons, agreed with Daphne that Lily Moon screamed far too much. As a result, all of their clothing had been moved to the Chamber of Secrets (the day before, they had moved from the Room of Requirement), since they already slept together every night.

This also meant that Tracey shared her room with only Millicent Bulstrode and Lily, since Pansy had died. Pansy and Theodore's funerals had been just over a week ago, though only a few Slytherins appeared, as they were not particularly popular.

Tracey and Neville, therefore, had to either listen to Lily going at it with Zacharias Smith, or, if they elected to use the Gryffindor Dorms, Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnegan. Even worse was when those two went to Lavender's room – because that meant that Hermione would be spending the night with Ron. Luckily, that had yet to happen thanks to Ron's idiocy leading to him spending so much time in the Hospital that Madam Pomfrey had begun to compare him to Harry, much to both of their anger. Even better for Tracey and Neville was that Daphne's discovery of Salazar Slytherin's chambers had left the Room of Requirement empty, which they had used the previous night.

The young couple planned on moving all of their possessions into the Room that night, so that they would not have to go to their Dormitories the next day to pack their trunks. This way, they would be able to sleep in late. However, the couple knew that while they would (probably) stay in bed until breakfast, they would not be asleep.

"It's so weird that we'll be seventh years in a few short months," Tracey mused. Blaise and Draco, who were accompanying her to the Dungeons, made noises of agreement.

"I can not help but wonder who the Head Boy and Girl will be next year, even though with the war and everything going on, it should hardly matter," Draco said.

"Why would it not matter?" Blaise challenged. "We _will_ live out this war, and then having something like Head Boy or Girl on our records would mean a lot. And to answer your question Trace, I think they will be Susan and either Drake or Harry."

"Why not Daphne?" Tracey asked, defending her friend. "Her grades are even better than Susan's; she is just as just and fair -"

Draco cut her off. "Yes, but the whole 'Ice Queen' part will make her seem too aloof for fellow students to confide in her. Also, the fact is that the only reason that she is Prefect was that Pansy, the former one, died and we needed an interim Prefect. She would be great, yes, but she lacks the record that Susan has received over the past two years. And between the lovely Lady Bones and Padma Patil ... well, I would go for Susan each and every time."

Blaise, seeing this as the perfect time to get payback, withdrew his wand, making a slashing motion, and a 'WHIP!' sound was emitted.

"I'm saying that you're whipped, Malfoy," Blaise said, clarifying his actions, while mocking Draco at the same time by mirroring the boy's own actions the previous day.

Draco glared at Blaise, and then at Tracey when she giggled at the byplay. "Okay," she relented. "So Suzy will be Head Girl. What about Head Boy? I think it could be you, Drake."

Draco looked doubtful, though he smiled at the young woman's belief in him. "I do not know, Trace ... Headship is decided by the four Heads of Houses and, in the case of a tie, the Headmistress chooses one of the tied members, according to my dad. And while I am sure that Sev picked me, I doubt that the others will have."

The others smiled at his term of endearment for his godfather; for the last couple of years, he had been torn between Severus and his best friend, Harry (as Harry was his best friend, regardless of what Blaise thought). However, all he had had to do was get the two together, and within a few minutes, Severus was weeping about how Harry had Lily's eyes, and Harry was looking uncomfortable, but happy that he no longer had a teacher that hated his guts. Now, if only he no longer had a teacher that enjoyed predicting his demise …

Of course, that had only been a couple of days previous, so they had no idea if Severus would continue to be on friendly terms with Harry, but Draco hoped so.

"So who does that leave then?" Blaise asked. "Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, and Prewitt - and we all know he doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell."

Tracey looked thoughtful. "Does the Headship have to go to a Prefect?"

Draco considered the question, thinking back to what his father had said about his own seventh year. "As far as I know, the last one was around thirty years ago."**

"Who was it?" The question came from Blaise and Tracey both.

"James Potter. But that was only because Remus Lupin, the Gryffindor Prefect of the time, turned it down due to his lycanthropy."

"What about the others?" Blaise asked.

"Well, from what I know, the other options were Xeno Lovegood -" the others snorted at the idea of him or his daughter as Head Boy or Girl. "And Amos Diggory and, well, Cedric inherited his looks from his dad, and his smarts from his mom."

"Was that not your father's seventh year, also?"

"Yes," he responded to Tracey's question. "But he was not elected for a reason that he never told me." In fact, whenever the Lord Malfoy had been asked by his heir about why he had not been Head Boy, he simply looked bashful and refused to answer.

Arriving at the Dungeons, he walked towards a section of a wall that was missing a portrait, and found the small imprint of a snake. "Sint pura solum sanguine intrare," he said. _Let only the pure of blood enter_, in Latin.

As the wall momentarily flickered, allowing the trio to walk through what was now an illusion of a wall, before separating to go to their own Dormitories. As Draco and Blaise walked away from Tracey, Blaise called back, "I do hope that without Longbottom there, you can get in and out of the shower in less than a half hour!"

Tracey, not one to let something go, made sure she had the last jab as, just before ascending the stairs, she responded, "Just because Neville knows how to satisfy a woman in the shower, does not mean you have to be so blatantly jealous about it!"

* * *

The funeral was relatively boring. A short man stood up and gave a sermon, but he clearly knew nothing about Dumbledore. In fact, as Harry thought about it, neither did he!

All that he knew about Albus was his name – and even then, he only knew his middle names, all three of them, because of his hearing, now almost two years prior. As he sat back in his seat, thinking about how little he knew about the deceased old man, and how fast the past six years had gone by, the little man droned on about Albus' sacrifices to the Greater Good of Wizarding Society, and how indebted the Wizarding World was to him for his actions against Grindelwald and Voldemort.

A few rows away, Severus Snape sat, thinking about the old man's death. With it, the Elder Wand would be buried, never to be used again, as no one had ever defeated him since he had gained the wand's allegiance, and he was not murdered.

Indeed, the only one who could ever use the wand would have to be related to Antioch Peverell, the original master of the wand.

Indeed, the only one who could ever gain the wand's allegiance sat a few rows away from him … the Heir Peverell …

Harry Potter.

Of course, everyone thought that Antioch had a child, making his line continue. However, it had actually been Cadmus, who had a son before his lover's untimely death. The son had been raised by Antioch's widow, but was never his true son.

As a result, Cadmus' descendent and Harry Potter each had an equal right to the Elder Wand. But not only would they need the wand's allegiance, they would also need Death to accept it.

And Severus Snape highly doubted that Death would give the Dark Lord Voldemort another route to escape Him.

* * *

**A/N: After this, I should be at 200/400/600 (Reviews/Faves/Follows)! Wow!**

**Next Chapter: The Hogwarts Express! I was originally going to make that this Chapter, but … oh well. **

**Also, Luna will play a small role over the next couple of chapters, but I mainly just wanted to put her in there to sate those of you who are Luna fans. **

**So a slight change from Canon (or wiki, anyway) with Antioch not having any children.**

***Anybody get the reference? (HINT: I made a reference to the same thing in Chapter 8).**

**** In my Potterverse, the Potters, Sirius, Remus, Lucius (Narcissa was one year younger) and Peter were all twenty-nine when Voldemort was 'defeated.' As a result, they would be forty-four (forty-five in Cissa's case, 47 in Bella's, and 40 in Andy's) at this time. **

**Until next time … review?**


	18. Chapter 18 - Hogwarts Express Part I

**Disclaimer**: I neither own the Harry Potter universe, nor do I make any profit from this. All rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 18 - Hogwarts Express Part I

* * *

"What did your letter say, Drake?"

"Probably the same thing as yours, Harry."

That morning, after reminding Susan of his love for her, verbally and physically, Draco had braved showering in the Hufflepuff's Dormitory. It had been Blaise's turn to spend the night Slytherin-style, with Hannah, while Draco stayed with Susan.

However, while the two couples switched Dormitories every evening, Draco had always showered alone. He had no doubt that Blaise and Hannah had no such restrictions, considering that Hannah had been in a towel one morning when he arrived.

Draco had had to admit that showering with someone else was quite pleasant. For one thing, he no longer needed the water to be cold, a welcome change in his opinion. Of course, watching Susan naked, rubbing soap all over her body promised him an interesting night of sleep for at least a week.

When he arrived at the Great Hall, smiling happily and clutching onto Susan's waist, Tracey and Neville were the only ones that had yet to appear. Apparently, Blaise and Hannah had, in a surprising change in tradition, been the first to rouse themselves, as the other four sat among the Badgers for the last meal before boarding the Hogwarts Express.

Within a few minutes, the owls had appeared with the customary mail route. A few owls had headed towards the sextet at the Hufflepuff table: a few barn owls carrying Daily Prophets.

"Harry?" Hannah had asked, eliciting an encouraging look from Harry. "When are we going to enact your plan on Skeeter?"

Harry had grinned devilishly, before replying, "As soon as possible. Now that we are almost out of school for the year, we can finally handle the pest. And she still got my age wrong!"

Daphne giggled at Harry's whine, before she noticed Hedwig and a regal looking eagle owl, which she quickly identified as Athena, Draco's owl.

Draco and Harry had each read their letters, and a flurry of emotions appeared on their faces: confusion, anger, excitement, worry, and even happiness.

Draco leaned over past Susan to take a look at Harry's letter. After a moment of skimming the letter's contents, he affirmed, "Yes. They are basically the same, just addressed by different people to different people, and pet names are different."

"No, really?" Harry asked sarcastically. "I _never_ would have thought that our letters were addressed to different people."

Draco flushed, an action that was quite contrary to his usual mask of disinterest. "What do the letters say?" asked Daphne.

Draco looked at his letter again, before clearing his throat and summarizing the text. "Basically, it says that Mum and Sirius can hardly wait to see us; apparently, Aunt Andi and Nymphadora will be waiting for us alongside Mum and Snuffles."

Harry interrupted, "You are going to use the name 'Nymphadora' as much as you can before we meet her again, aren't you?" Draco smirked, and Harry continued where the Malfoy scion had left off. "Apparently, during a Death Eater raid gone terribly wrong, Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were both killed. The result is that Bellatrix Lestrange, now Bella Black once again, is no longer held under the captivity of a Marriage Contract, whose stipulations stated that Bella was completely subservient to her husband and brother-in-law, and has left Tom's troops."

"Wait, hold up," Susan broke in. "A Marriage Contract?"

"Yes," Draco answered. "So Aunt Bella had no control over what she did. She has since been in contact with Uncle Siri, and now lives in a Black Manor in Wales. And since she did not have any control over her actions, Mum and Uncle Siri want her to be at King's Cross, to meet Neville and apologize for her part in his parents' torture, even though it was not of her own volition."

"But how the hell do we explain to one of our best friends that his parents' torturer was actually innocent?" Hannah asked.

"I have no idea," Blaise answered, before leaning across the table to look at Draco's letter. "But then again, I also never knew that Draco's Mum calls him 'her little Dragon.'"

* * *

On the seventh floor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, two teenagers – the girl, having her birthday in February was seventeen, while the boy was sixteen until the end of July – found themselves waking up very comfortably.

The woman was curled into a ball, her forehead pressed against the man's chest, her right hand caressing his pectoral muscles even in sleep. The man's arms had wrapped around her at some point in the night, as one hand cradled her rear, while the other lay on her lower back, pulling her close to him.

The male mumbled incoherently as he slowly roused himself. He found himself thinking about the night previous, and how they had made love.

_Made love._

He still remembered the moment when he stopped thinking of it as 'having sex' and began calling it 'making love.' Even though, at the time, they had only been in a relationship for a couple of weeks, they had harboured feelings for each other for several years.

Still, it had been quite a surprise when he looked into her green eyes, her chestnut brown hair flowing over shoulders and down her back, and realized the scary truth of what was happening.

Why he could no longer imagine himself spending any time away from her. Why all of his dreams seemed to entail her wearing a white gown, or the two of them holding each other while small children ran circles around them, toddling around on their chubby little legs. Why every class that he did not have with her, he yearned for her with all of his heart.

He was in love.

So, summoning all of his courage, he had told her that he loved her. And, luckily enough, she had responded likewise: "I love you too, Neville."

At that moment, Neville could not imagine ever being happier. However, almost every morning, when he woke up to see her face looking back at him, he felt just as, if not more, happy.

After a few minutes of silently watching his love sleep, Neville brushed a bit of her chestnut brown hair away from her neck, and placed his lips against it gently. He began to gently kiss her neck, occasionally nibbling on the area near the collarbone where her neck met her shoulder. She let out a contented moan as she opened her light green eyes blearily.

"What time is it?" she managed to ask between groans, rubbing at her eyes with clenched fists and yawning tiredly.

A quick "Tempus" revealed that it was only a quarter after eight in the morning.

"And why, in god's name, are you waking me up at eight fifteen? I thought that we had an agreement, that we would sleep in until after ten today?"

Neville smirked, and nibbled at her earlobe for a moment. He then whispered into her ear, "We agreed that we would go down to the Great Hall after ten today. We said nothing about when we would actually _wake up_."

Tracey smiled, "I love you, Neville Longbottom."

"And I you, Tracey Davis."

Oh, how he wished that he could call her 'Tracey Longbottom.' However, he had to wait until after the war, if they survived. _When_ they survived. Harry would be his best man, and Daphne would probably be Tracey's maid of honour. And then, they would make love to each other for six straight days. After that, they would go on a Honeymoon.

At his declaration of love for her, Tracey pulled herself closer to him, so that his chin rested on the top of her head. Pushing her head so that it was positioned right in front of his chest, she began to kiss his pectoral muscles.

The last few years had been good for Neville. Not only had he gained the confidence necessary for the Lord of an Ancient and Most Noble House, but the constant duelling with the other five – now seven – had caused him to develop some lean muscles. While he may not have been as well-muscled as a Muggle body-builder or wrestler, his arms and chest were well defined. Especially considering that many males in the Wizarding World had become either scrawny or overweight due to their dependence on magic for everything, he was in very good form. Outside of Quidditch players, as it was the only Wizarding sport, Neville was probably in the top tier of Hogwartian boys in regards to the fitness of his body.

As she continued to kiss his chest, she rubbed her cool, slender hands up and down his torso. Her long, delicate nails left small, painless, and barely noticeably scratches on his stomach. As she moved upwards, kissing along his collarbone, she could feel the tension and worry in his frame as, unknown to her, he thought of their future, if such a thing existed after the war.

Wanting to know the cause for his tenseness, she murmured into his shoulder, "What worries you, Neville?"

That was another thing about their relationship that he found slightly strange. They had no pet names for each other, or any sort of short forms. While their friends called them Trace and Nev or, to annoy him, Nevy, they never did the same for each other.

"Just thinking about the future," he answered vaguely.

"As in the war? Or ten years from now? Or all of the training that we will be going through during the summer?"

Neville kissed the crown of her head gently, and moved his hands so that one was positioned on her head, stroking her hair that went all the way down to her lower back, where his other hand massaged small circles.

"All of them, I guess. I am kind of worrying about whether all eight of us will survive or not."

Tracey moved up, the friction of her body against his only increasing his arousal. Her green eyes glared into his brown ones, and she kissed him passionately. Her hands snaked around his neck as their tongues battled for dominance.

As his hands rested on her lower back, he twisted around, pulling her by the waist on top of him. As she finally broke the kiss, she said, "None of us are going to die, Neville Longbottom."

He smiled at her passion, and raised his head to kiss her again, once, softly. As he did, she realized that she had managed to straddle his waist, and her knees lay on top of his arms, keeping them from moving. His lower body was almost spasming with need, and he tried to move his arms.

However, he found that the vice-like grip of her legs was too much. It was quite ironic, he felt, that the long, muscular legs that he so adored were causing him so much discomfort.

The actual bones of the knee dug into the inside of his elbow, making his lower arms useless, and a flex of his upper arms showed that it would not be enough to remove her from her delectable position.

"Please, Tracey," he moaned.

She bent down, nibbling on his ear gently. "Admit that we will all live through this war. And then we will have three children."

Despite the situation, Neville gave her an amused look. "Exactly three?"

"Yes. One boy and two girls. I have it all planned out," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Should I feel worried that you are one of those crazy girlfriends that has my entire life planned out?" At this, Tracey glared, and crossed her arms over her chest, taking away the one view that she had left him. Finally giving into his teenage hormones, he gave one final heave with his hips, but she stayed on top of him, tantalizingly close to him, but so far away. "We will survive the war," he whimpered, with as much passion as he could, given the situation.

He could not help but realize how hypocritical that comment had been; after all, had he not been thinking about how their marriage was going to happen not two minutes before?

Evidently, his answer had been good enough, as she smiled and whispered in his ear, "Now, was that so hard?"

He smirked. "Yes, yes it is."

With that terrible pun, the young couple proceeded to demonstrate their love for each other for over two hours, including washing themselves off together.

By the time the young lovers arrived at the Great Hall, the other six were almost finished eating. They sat down at the Hufflepuff table wearing contented (and, in Neville's case, dazed) looks as Draco speared an egg vehemently.

"What has your knickers in a twist, Malfoy?" Tracey asked, having noticed his dour expression.

In response, Draco savagely tore into a slice of bread, causing Blaise to snicker.

"Blaise, what did you do?" Neville queried.

"Nothing," the dark-skinned Zabini scion answered, his lips quirking upwards ruining his innocent expression. "I just commented on Lady Malfoy's expression of endearment for Draco."

"Ooh, I smell blackmail material!" Tracey said eagerly, rubbing her hands together.

Harry chuckled. "'Little Dragon.'"

Tracey smiled gleefully, before taking a quill and a small diary out of her backpack. "What is that?"

Tracey gave Hannah an innocent look. "A book."

"What is _in_ the book?"

"Words. Words, words, words!"

"Did you really just make a Hamlet reference?"

The Purebloods sans Daphne looked on, bemused at the byplay between their half-blood friends. Daphne, having watched a performance of the play in question, smiled up at Harry, whose shoulder her head rested on. In fact, it was Harry that had brought her to see the production of Hamlet, and she had brought Tracey with her because, while their relationship was solid, it was after their fourth year, so they had yet to get too intimate with each other.

Neville, apparently feeling pity for Hannah, leaned forward to inform her as to the content o the mysterious book, but a sharp glare from Tracey stopped him. Eventually, it was Daphne who spoke up.

"It's her book full of blackmail material."

"Do you have anything on me?" Hannah asked, causing Tracey to smirk. She flipped through the book, before she lifted the book so the other seven could see.

Blaise and Hannah both blanched at the picture being revealed. "H-how did you get that?" Blaise stuttered out.

"Apparently Colin Creevey is really good at Disillusionment Charms."

"How did you get him to get a picture of that?" Daphne asked, her voice tinged with a hint of envy at Tracey's Slytherin qualities.

Tracey just smiled, and flipped to another page. This one had Harry nearly vomiting, as it depicted Colin and Denis Creevey both completely naked, and between them was...

"So glad that slag did not get away with her Amortentia plan," Harry said, massaging his throat as he tried to erase the image of Ginny being penetrated from both sides by the Creevey brothers.

"You know, I actually find myself wishing that Lockhart was still here. At least he was good at Obliviations," Draco commented, his past humiliation apparently gone.

After that, the conversation continued for a while, and Harry began to tune them out (although his head popped up for a moment when he thought he heard Daphne say 'threesome'). He exchanged a glance with Draco, who motioned with his head to Harry's left, where Neville sat.

Harry looked at him tentatively. "Hey, uh, Neville?"

"What's up, Harry?" he asked, taking a sip from his goblet of pumpkin juice. Harry grimaced at the action; he abhorred pumpkin juice, preferring orange juice instead. Unfortunately, the Wizarding World seemed unable to comprehend the idea of drinking anything other than pumpkin juice or tea.

Harry drank tea a lot.

"What would you say if one of your parents' tormentors was not as guilty as everyone presumed them to be?" he asked carefully.

"Are you trying to say that either Bartemius Crouch Jr. or one of the Lestranges had been framed?" Neville responded, his voice dangerously calm.

"Not framed, so much as forced to comply because of a Marriage Contract that bound her will to her husband."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is an animal! She killed Kingsley!"

Harry winced at the reminder of what he felt that he had caused. "Yes, but I was reviewing that memory in my mind – Nev, the curse she shot was red!"

"So?"

"So, the only red curses that we know of are the Cruciatus and Stunner. And since Shack was not screaming in pain as he fell through the veil ..." Harry's voice trailed off.

"That means nothing, Harry-"

"She swore on her life and magic!" Harry erupted, slamming his fist against the table with such force that Neville's goblet shook violently. "She swore that anything and everything that she did was against her will, and that she supports neither Tom's cause nor his methods."

Neville seemed to visibly deflate. The only motivator for success that he had were his thirst for vengeance against the people that tortured his parents into insanity, and recently, his love for Tracey.

"If she is under a slave bond, then how could she have betrayed her husband and brother-in-law?" he queried, to which Harry handed him a piece of parchment.

"It's a letter from Sirius. Draco got the same thing from his mum, except that Aunt Cissy addressed hers to her little Dragon."

Blaise chortled at the reminder even as Draco glared at the table surface. Susan rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he bit angrily into a strip of bacon.

"So the two male Lestranges are dead?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Harry replied cautiously. "But odds are that Bella will be spending the summer with us. Can you at least _try_ to stay civil with her?" he asked pleadingly.

Neville looked over to Tracey, who smiled encouragingly. He saw Draco looking hopeful out of the corner of his eyes, the expression in stark contrast to the rage with which he speared a sausage.  
Slowly, Neville nodded. "You guys better leave Crouch Jr. for me," he grumbled, causing Harry to snort. Somehow, they never realized that their yelling had caught the attention of everyone in the Hall; they just continued to sip at their pumpkin juice, for Neville, and Earl Grey tea, for Harry.

* * *

A few minutes later, Daphne delicately wiped her lips with a serviette for the final time, Harry and Neville finished their tea and pumpkin juice, Draco stabbed his last sausage, Blaise and Hannah finally stopped kissing and woke up to the world around him, and Susan finally finished her bartering with Tracey by slipping her ten galleons, for which Tracey dug into her backpack and destroyed the picture of Susan with Ernie Macmillan in a broom closet from third year.

After all eight had wrapped up, they stood up as a collective group. Moments previous, Professor McGonagall had given the traditional dismissal speech, and congratulated Slytherin on winning the House Cup, and Gryffindor for winning the Quidditch Cup.

The Lions had looked to have the advantage in House Points, but after the 'incident,' as it was beginning to be referred to as, all of the teachers demonstrated Snape-like bias towards Ginevra, Ron Prewitt, and Hermione Granger.

Due to a combination of this and the undeniable fact that half of the eight members of the 'Think Tank' belonged to Slytherin House, gaining them as many points per day as the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor members gained combined, Slytherin dominated with five hundred ten to Gryffindor's four hundred thirty. Hufflepuff was at four hundred twenty, with Ravenclaw finishing at a dismal three hundred sixty.

After the members who belonged to the losing Houses (Neville, Harry, Susan, and Hannah) provided the obligatory "I lost and now I'm mad at you" moment, the eight left the Great Hall to make their way to the Thestral-driven carriages.

Once the carriages attached to invisible, skeletal horses came into view, Harry winced as all of the people that he had seen die flooded his memory: Professor Quirrell, Lily Potter in his Dementor-caused memory, Cedric Diggory, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Dedalus Diggle, who had also been killed at the Department of Mysteries.

However, Harry could not help but notice that Hannah had also winced visibly at the sight of the Thestrals; when had she seen someone die?

Harry quickly decided to ask her aboard the train, as he did not wish to bring attention to her if his presumption that she had seen someone die was correct.

Harry fingered the shrunken trunk in his cloak pocket to make sure that it was still there, before opening the door to a nearby empty carriage in an act of chivalry for Daphne. He kept it open as Susan, Draco, Hannah and Blaise meandered in. However, as the carriages only fit a maximum of six, Tracey and Neville had to wait behind.

"Do you want me to wait with you guys?" he asked.

"No, we will make do without you," Tracey replied, taking Neville's hand in hers.

"Hey guys!" Daphne's voice called out to them. "There's enough room for you two here."

Upon entering the carriage, the other three realized that her statement was accurate. While there were only six seats, Hannah was straddling Blaise, leaving the seat next to them empty. Susan was curled up on her seat, lying so that her head rested on Draco's lap, who ran his hands through her curly red hair.

As soon as Harry entered the carriage, Daphne pushed him onto one of the three empty seats, and plopped onto his lap. After wiggling around for a bit, she ended up straddling him much like Hannah was doing to Blaise, and quickly wrapped her arms around his neck.

Even as she began to kiss him, Harry brought his arms around her lower back, pulling her tightly to him as her tongue plunged into his mouth.

After a minute, she pulled back, and cuddled into his chest. A cursory glance by Harry revealed that Tracey was imitating Susan by curling up in Neville's lap, while Hannah and Blaise were still snogging quite passionately.

"What was that for?" he queried.

Daphne moved forward, and kissed him again, softly. "Am I not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?"

"Whenever you want, my love," he replied with a smile, before pulling her closer to him and pressing his lips up against hers.

Immediately after he licked her lower lip, she opened her mouth, giving Harry entrance, which he quickly took advantage of, pushing his tongue into her mouth, and battling with hers.

After a few minutes of this, the carriage slowed down, before stopping. Between his and Daphne's passionate kissing and her straddling his lap, enhanced by the constant bounces caused by the rough gravel path, Harry was quite aroused, and judging by the way that Daphne smirked mischievously and wiggled into his lap a bit more, she knew all too well.

A couple of years earlier, Harry would have flushed bright red, but after all of the time that he and Daphne had spent together alone, he highly doubted that she could make him blush anymore. At least, not without a good deal of effort.

"Teasing minx," he muttered, swatting her backside gently as she walked away after getting off of him.

The eight friends jumped off of the carriage, culminating with Blaise gallantly catching Hannah. As one, the group walked towards the Hogwarts Express, and stepped onto the train.

Harry fell behind a little as Daphne engaged Tracey in conversation, and as the two girls and Neville entered a compartment, he grabbed Hannah's arm gently and pulled her to the side.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Yeah, of course," she responded, before getting Blaise's attention with a wave of her hand. "Oi, Zabini! I'll be there in a minute; Harry just wanted to talk with me."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, but continued on. Harry was certain that he heard him say 'Little Dragon.'

"What's up, Harry?" Hannah asked, as they stepped into a compartment. There were a couple first years there – had they once been that short and scrawny? – but they scattered at the sight of two sixth years, soon to be seventh years.

Deciding to get straight to the point, Harry motioned for her to have a seat. "Listen, Hannah, I saw you make a face when we saw the Thestrals, but I did not want to bring attention to you. I was just wondering who, how long ago, and how your handling everything."

"It was my maternal Gran, the Muggle one. She had an aneurysm, and refused to get any Magical help; claimed that it was her time to go. She passed last summer, and..." The tears that began to flood her eyes were all Harry needed to know as to how she was handling it, and quickly pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and Hannah realized with a start that, unlike with most people, where that statement was empty, Harry truly meant it.

Because he understood.

So she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the embrace. "It's just..." she began, before breaking into sobs again.

"I know," was the muttered response. He rubbed her back gently, murmuring "Shh, it will be okay, Hannah," into her hair.

Unknown to them, their six friends watched on, smiling. They liked this Harry, the one that they were used to, who was so kind and compassionate with others.

As they sat in their compartment, waiting for the other two, Tracey smirked, before looking at Blaise and Daphne. "They would make a really cute couple, don't you think?"

Draco grinned at Blaise. "Yeah, they look like they would be really good for each other."

Susan giggled at Daphne's furious expression, and Neville had to forcibly hold Blaise back – whether because he was going to attack Draco or get Hannah away from Harry was a mystery to him.

Back in the other compartment, Harry conjured a handkerchief, making sure that it was orange and black. Despite the haze of tears that covered her vision, Hannah giggled at it, before wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

"Are you okay?"

Hannah took a deep breath. "I think so."

"Shall we?" he asked, holding the door open for her and waving her through.

"Thank you, milord," she responded with a small smile.

"What's going on here?" he asked as he took a seat next to Daphne.

Across from them, Blaise was being held back by Neville, and seemed about to attack Draco, who was shaking with laughter.

As Blaise finally calmed down and sat next to Hannah, he glared at Draco, who was still laughing for whatever reason.

"Oh shut it, little Dragon," he said, causing Draco to immediately stop laughing and glare right back at Blaise.

* * *

**A/N: Part II will be up next Saturday. I had hoped to get it all done in one chapter, but I guess not...**

I find myself really enjoying Hannah's character, more so than everyone else except Harry and Daphne.

For those of you wondering, it was a reference to A Very Potter Musical. It's on YouTube, in case you've never seen it. And if you haven't ... you've never known what life is all about.


	19. Chapter 19 - Hogwarts Express Part II

**Disclaimer:** Do I have to keep writing this? I. Don't. Own. Harry. Potter. Got it?

_Warning: Gore and (sort-of) major character death. I tried to get this out last night, but there was something wrong with either FFN or my laptop._

Chapter 19 – Hogwarts Express II

* * *

"Should we get changed then?" Harry asked as the train began to move, the wheels making a _clickety-clack_ against the rails.

"Sure," Susan agreed. "Why don't you four be good little boys and change in the hallway?"

Blaise got a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How about I conjure a drape between us boys and you girls?" he offered.

In a normal compartment, this would not be a viable option, due to size restrictions. However, as soon as they had walked in, Daphne had shot an "Engorgio!" causing the compartment walls to expand and make room for eight people.

Susan seemed to contemplate it for a moment, before nodding in acquiescence.

As soon as she did, Blaise conjured a thick, black curtain between the two sides, separating the boys from the girls. Then, winking at the other males, he cast a Revealing Charm on the curtain. This charm acted like a Muggle one-way mirror used by the Bobbies, where they could see through it, but the girls could not.

Smiling, he then waved his wand, and his robes disappeared, to be replaced by a grey polo shirt and jeans, to look refined, but not so much as to seem overly arrogant. Harry gave an appreciating look at his abilities dressing Muggle, a skill very few wizards possessed.

He then took a glance at the other side, where Daphne was unbuttoning her robe. His eyes widened, and he barely noticed that he had changed his clothes to reflect Blaise's, though he wore a hooded sweater over a t-shirt rather than a polo shirt. After all, judging by the Aurors that he had seen pacing the train just in case of an attack, there was a serious chance of that occurring. And if it did, Harry wanted to be in clothes that he could easily manoeuvre in.

Then, sparing a "You are a freaking genius, mate," to Blaise, he sat down, and gazed intently.

He did, of course, realize that this was extremely perverted to watch his girlfriend strip without her knowledge, but he had a funny feeling that she did know. After all, why else would she have stripped down to just her green thong and bra, before bending down to get a change of clothes, giving him a perfect view of her nearly bare rear?

He was quite happy with her choice of clothes. Though not the most practical for a fight, Harry was never going to make a fuss about Daphne dressing in short shorts and a tank top that revealed a substantial amount of cleavage.

He gave a quick glance to his three best male mates; all three sitting down and staring at their respective girlfriends with dazed looks, and Harry was sure that he could see a line of drool hanging out of the corner of Neville's mouth.

Finally, noticing that the girls were all finished dressing, he called out, "Oi! Are you girls done in there yet?"

"Come and find out," replied Daphne in a sultry voice.

Harry chuckled in response, before standing up, pausing to adjust his pants which had tightened due to Daphne's voice and the strip-tease that she had, albeit unknowingly, given him. Once on his feet, he moved to draw the drape backwards, only for Blaise to Banish it, causing Harry to stand there looking rather foolish in front of all of the girls.

Noticing his awkwardness-induced plight, Daphne apparently felt pity for him, as she uncrossed her legs and stood up from her own seat, before closing the space between herself and Harry, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Hello, love," she muttered as she melted into his embrace, moments before he tilted her head upwards and captured her lips with his. The kiss itself was short, but the passion and love that they felt for each other was present nonetheless.

Once they pulled away, they stayed close to each other for a moment, breathing in each other's fragrance. Daphne, unsurprisingly, smelled like apple cinnamon, the same scent as he smelled at the beginning of the school year when Professor Horace Slughorn had shown their class the Love Potion 'Amortentia' – and, now that Harry thought about it, more than a few teas that he had ingested over the past year.

Daphne, on the other hand, inhaled Harry's rather masculine smell that vaguely reminded her of the sea; in particular, the Mediterranean, which bordered her summer home in Cannes, France. The home, which she hoped to spend some time at with Harry, as well as her parents and younger sister Astoria, was on the beach, in an affluent Wizarding area. In fact, her neighbours were the Delacour family; Gabrielle and Tori were good friends, having practically grown up together.

Daphne could not wait until her and Harry were alone on a beach, whether in Cannes or Marauders' Island mattered not. She mainly wanted to see how much she could make Harry blush by wearing some of her less conservative swim suits, though shagging in the sand would also be quite welcome.

"Daphne, love?" Harry asked, startling her out of her thoughts. Harry had an amused smile on his face, as he said dryly, "Are you going to stop smelling me anytime soon?"

Daphne gave a cute pout in response, but before long, her lips had curved into a full smile. After another short kiss, she pushed him gently but sternly towards the seat that she had recently vacated. He barely had enough time to sit before she plopped down into his lap, arranging herself quickly before kissing him again.

Across from them, Neville looked at Tracey uncertainly. "It's amazing how much they miss each other after barely a minute, is it not?"

"It's really romantic," she agreed. "I can only hope that one day, we could love each other that much," she added, a wistful smile on her lips. The smile was replaced by Neville's own lips even as the words left them, in an attempt to demonstrate to her that he DID love her that much.

"So, did you like the view, love?" Daphne asked, staring intently at Harry.

"What view?" he responded, though his gut plummeted at the thought that she knew what he and the other males had done.

"Love, I have known Blaise since I was six. I know exactly how perverted he is, so I will ask you one more time: did you like the view or not?"

"I will have you know that it is not perversion, it is an art form," Blaise said, looking affronted.

"Oh?" Daphne's lips twitched into a small smile. "Is that what you call the collection of PlayWizard books that you keep under your bed?"

Blaise paled as Hannah shot him an accusing glare. "What was that supposed to mean, Blaise honey?"

"Er ... nothing, dear?" His answer came out sounding more like a question, causing Hannah to roll her eyes and cross her arms over her chest.

She glared at him for another moment, during which he steadfastly avoided her gaze. Eventually, she made an irritated "hmph!" noise, before standing and crossing to the other side of the compartment. Sitting down to a very amused Harry and Daphne, she pulled a book out of her backpack, and began reading it, not bothering to spare another glance in Blaise's direction.

"I'm sleeping on the couch, aren't I?" he asked Tracey, sitting next to him.

Tracey snorted in response. "If you are lucky; if I found out that Neville had a pornographic collection under his bed, we would be over before he could say, 'Obliviate!'"

"Obliviate?" Harry asked. "I'm not sure that I have ever heard of that saying before."

"I said 'Obliviate' because that would be the only way for him to get back in my good books; making me forget what he had done."

Blaise further paled as he took in Hannah's figure, steepling her fingers as though Tracey's suggestion was under serious consideration. Now truly worried that he had ruined his relationship, Blaise began to drum his fingers against his thighs, as he fretted about how to make this up to her.

He could make excuses, like that they had yet to start dating the last time that he was home, and this, had not had the time to get rid of his collection of naughty magazines.

But if there was one thing that Blaise had learned from being in a serious relationship was that girls did not like weak excuses; besides, Hannah knew that he had had a crush on her for a while, though she had not managed to ascertain just how long he had nurtured it for her.

Between Hannah, his mother, and the other girls that he had had less serious relationships with over the years, there was one thing that Blaise had learned about women: they were suckers for cheesy bits of romance.

Blaise had never quite expected his relationship with Hannah to last for as long or go as far as it had. If he was honest with himself, he had been sure that they would have a few good times in a broom closet, and then part on hopefully good terms. If there was one person that Blaise did not want to wrong, it was Hannah Abbot, because if she was angry, she was a true sight to behold. And even if she did not go after him, Susan would have.

And to anger Susan Bones was to have a death wish.

Deciding that romancing Hannah would be his only chance to get her back, Blaise was about to reach for his wand to conjure a bouquet of white roses, when he stilled.

'That escalated quickly,' he mused to himself silently. 'When we started dating, or whatever this is, she knew that I was a player; my reputation speaks for itself. So why is she acting so dramatically all of a sudden...'

"You're taking the mickey out of me, aren't you?" The question from Blaise was accusing, directed straight at Hannah, causing her to blink in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are not actually serious; you girls are just messing with me."

Hannah continued to seem surprised, before sighing, uncrossing her arms. "How did you know?"

Blaise's lips quirked into a small smile. "Say the magic word," he teased.

Hannah glared at him in response, before re-crossing her arms and pouting at him. "No!" She refused in a voice that told him that she was quite adamant about this.

Blaise, in return, feigned sadness, and gave her a disappointed look. "Fine. I just won't tell you how I figured it out."

Hannah glared back, defiant. "Tell me!" she demanded.

Blaise was about to respond, when the train ground to a sudden, shaking halt. It was like déjà vu as Harry heard Susan mutter, "We can't possibly be there yet," to which Draco responded, "Well, then why are we stopping?"

Harry pulled his wand out of the pocket that he had shoved it into - he really needed to get a holster for it - and motioned for the others to do the same. He then grabbed the handle of the compartment door and opened it slowly, taking care to not male a noise.

Once it was opened enough, he pushed his head through the door, a curse on his lips, but only a few straggling first and second years were running around, freaking out worse than Harry and the Betrayers had during the third year trip to Hogwarts.

He made a motion with his head, and the other seven slipped out, standing on either side of him. He was glad to see that everyone had changed into more battle-ready clothes: robes that were reminiscent of Auror or Quidditch robes, tight enough so that they would not be hampered, but loose enough that they still had complete control over their movements.

Harry guessed that they had done a simple Switching Charm on their clothes, though he had no idea where they had all received the same robes from. Perhaps, they had just conjured the robes; silk, so long as it was not Acromantula silk, was fairly simple to Conjure. Regardless, Harry gave them an approving look, before they began to walk to the front of the train, where they could confront the conductor.

They were halted as a trio of Aurors, one of which Harry recognized to be Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, ran towards them.

"Potter!" the veteran Auror exclaimed. "Death Eaters stopped the train!" The news was accompanied by a gasp from Tracey and worried looks all around.

"Okay, we can hold them off for a few minutes, get anyone above fifth year and send them with us," Harry ordered, quickly taking control. "And watch out: god knows how many Tommy boy has inside of Hogwarts; we're fighting on two fronts here.

One of the Aurors, who Susan recognized as being a well respected man called John Dawlish, looked affronted at the idea of being ordered around by a mere child, but a stern glare from Moody - and Susan, whom he recognized as his boss's niece - had him burying his pride, and he and the other unnamed Auror began searching through the compartments.

Meanwhile, Mad-Eye stayed with the eight teens, and pointed his wand at the side of the train. "Expulso!" he cast, causing the metal wall to explode outward, giving them a route to exit the train so that they could fight Death Eaters without having to worry about a stray spell catching a kid.

"Mr. Moody!" Susan chided. "The train-"

"At this point, I couldn't care less about the train, Miss Bones," he interrupted. "My first priority is all nine of us surviving; the train staying intact is slightly less important."

Susan was about to wipe the sneer off of his face when Neville broke in with, "Uh, guys?"

"WHAT?" they exclaimed at once. If they had thought that Neville would shirk back, they were wrong. The old Neville Longbottom would have, but not this one.

"Just that you two might want to stop _acting like children_ and start fighting those bastards out there!"

Susan and Mad-Eye followed Neville's outstretched hand and felt their eyes widen as they took in the sight of thirty or so figures cloaked in all black and wearing white skull masks.

They also noticed why the train had stopped. The front of the train had been crushed by the meaty fist of the gigantic creature standing just in front of the train.

A giant.

"Hey, Nev?" Harry asked, licking his lips with anxiety at the sight of the giant and the rest of the Dark Lord's forces.

"Yes?"

"Remember how you said that you wanted to kill Crouch Jr.?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Did I ever tell you about how after the events of the Third Task, Crouch was Kissed on Fudge's orders?"

"When you say 'Kissed' may I assume that you are referring to a Dementor's Kiss?"

"Yes."

Neville looked like he was going to curse, before exhaling loudly. "This is a load of shite; why don't I get to have revenge on the people who tortured my parents?"

In response, Harry pointed at the thirty or so Death Eaters who were beginning to approach them. Apparently, blowing out the side of a train was not a very subtle way of announcing their presence to the enemy.

"While they may not have cast the Cruciatus, they are just as much to blame."

Instead of replying, Neville gave a feral snarl that reminded Harry of the startling fact that his Animagus form was of a Bengal tiger, before taking his wand out.

"Let's kill those fuckers."

Harry chuckled, and he could hear the rest do the same. He was not quite sure, but he thought he heard Mad-Eye say, "It's about damn time that someone else gets serious in this war."

Harry trained his wand onto one of the cloaked figures walking towards him. Aiming at his upper body, he whispered, "Reducto!"

The Death Eater in question barely raised a shield before the Curse would have blown his head off of his shoulders. As it was, he was knocked back several feet onto his arse by the force of Harry's spell.

The battle had begun.

* * *

In another compartment on the other end of the train, Hermione Granger and Ronald Prewitt were lounging around in their seats, waiting for the telltale sounds of battle that was their cue to attack.

They would pick off a few of the older students so that they could not join the Order, before running to the Dark Lord's forces and Apparating away.

They already had on their masks and cloaks, so that no one knew that it was they who attacked their fellow students. Luckily, the Wizarding World was so far behind in terms of technology, that there was no documentation of any sorts on the Hogwarts Express that could be used to account for each and every student. Indeed, only the Professors had the attendance sheets required, and even those were rarely used past the first month of first year, as the Professors had already memorized all of the names of their students, and no longer needed to read off of a sheet for roll call.

Hermione spared a disdainful glance to the other members of the compartment, all in similar garb: Crabbe, Goyle, Smith, and Marietta Edgecombe, who had been the 'Snitch' of 'Dumbledore's Army' the previous year.

Purebloods, all of them, who believed in the propaganda that blood purity had anything to do with magical aptitude. Hermione would show them, by becoming a General in the Dark Lord's army, and the most feared witch since Morgana LeFay, even more so than Bellatrix Lestrange.

Peering out of the window, she suddenly noticed spell fire being exchanged between nine people, one of whom she could easily determine to be Mad-Eye Moody and around thirty Death Eaters, all clothed the same as the six in her compartment.

She nudged Ron in the side with her elbow, getting his attention. "That's our sign," she said.

He stood up, smoothing his robes carefully and with no small amount of pride, and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

They stood up at the same time as the other four, and opened up the compartment door before walking out as confidently as they could. A young boy who could not have been more than twelve years old was walking by and was about to scream with fright, only to scream instead with pain as one of the hulking Junior Death Eaters – Ron had no idea if it was Crabbe or Goyle under the mask – cried, "Crucio!"

Ron and Hermione both had to forcibly prevent themselves from vomiting as the young boy writhed in agony as he was kept under the hold of the Cruciatus for only about ten seconds. By that time, a few of the more calm-headed students had peeked their heads out of their compartments, but a few Cutting Curses and a Killing Curse from either Crabbe or Goyle had them shrinking back into their cabins in fear. Obviously, they had not expected anyone to be aiming to kill; however, judging by the lifeless eyes of Cormac McLaggen.

After that, the six Death Eaters in-training split up, Crabbe and Goyle taking Edgecombe one way, while Smith accompanied Ron and Hermione. The next compartment that they entered was full of fifth years - practically sixth years now - and Hermione grinned as she noticed a particular girl who she knee that Harry was close to. Ron caught her line of sight and smiled back when he saw her target, before Banishing Michael Corner several feet backwards and into a wall, eliciting cries of surprise and fear from the students. They grinned once again.

They were going to enjoy this.

* * *

The fight between Hogwarts' finest and Voldemort's Death Eaters had been underway for ten minutes before the black robed warriors were joined by another force. Out of the train, two at a time, filed at least twenty Hogwartian Death Eaters.

Immediately, as if by reflex, the two dozen remaining Hogwarts students turned so that half of them faced the battle-hardened enemy, and the other half prepared to do battle with their classmates.

Harry stood between Draco and Katie Bell, with Daphne's back against his. He had been relieved to see thirty students between fifth and seventh years; he had proceeded to look in horror as they described a tale about how they had kept searching only to find corpses.

One of the Aurors who Harry now knew to be a man named Wayne Boot, had already fallen to a Reducto to his head from a masked Death Eater. Out of the thirty students that had joined them, only a dozen or so remained, along with the Elite Eight, Alastor Moody, John Dawlish, and the other three Aurors who had been on the train.

Meanwhile, there were twenty Death Eaters on either side of them, and about ten more lay on the ground, incapacitated or killed. So far, only the Death Eaters and Moody, who seemed to be enjoying himself, had used the Avada Kedavra, because the Hogwarts students were not sure if they would manage to pull it off.

Harry conjured a marble wall in front of him to block a Cruciatus Curse, before Banishing the fragments back at his enemy. Even though he had only been fighting for a quarter of an hour, Harry was panting, and he could feel his magical reserves dwindling. He blocked a Cutting Curse with a simple Protego, returning fire with a Sectumsempra that cleaved their body in two, from the right shoulder to the left hip.

He was quite happy that Snape had never shared his curse with any of Voldemort's men, because they did not know that it, like the Unforgivables, was unable to be blocked; as a result, some of the Death Eaters were easy pickings.

Just as he smiled as he took down an enemy, he noticed three Cutting Curses speeding towards Katie at once. He added his shield to hers, but it was slowly but surely being penetrated. Suddenly, another Death Eater sent their own Cutter towards Katie, breaking the shield and causing three Cutting curses to inflict serious damage on her abdomen, but the worst was the first one, which, eerily reminiscent of Nearly Headless Nick, cut into the bone and muscles of her neck, but stopped an inch away from the end, because it was the one that had been slowed down by the shield.

Harry turned away to prevent himself from vomiting at the sight of only a few sinews keeping his older friend's head attached to her neck. In his rage, he sent a Ribbon Cutter that left him with very little magic left; he noticed with satisfaction that it went clean through two of the perpetrator's sides, and through a couple of inches of the third's hip, causing him to scream in agony.

During all of this, the four Aurors, as Moody was still duelling, were involved in a fierce battle with the giant. A Conjunctivitis Curse to its right eye by Dawlish had it nearly blinded, which occurred a moment later as the same curse from Hestia Jones took out its left.

It took several more minutes, but finally, they were joined by Harry and Neville, who each used Sectumsempra on one of its legs, taking it down, before Hannah climbed onto its neck, and sent a Piercing Hex with all of the magic she could muster to its brain, killing it.

As she fainted backwards, into Blaise's warm, muscled arms, she saw a group of men and women wearing orange-red robes with a Phoenix on the back Apparate, only for the Death Eaters to leave a moment later as she closed her eyes.

Harry walked towards Blaise, who was clearly panicking with an unconscious Hannah in his arms. He placed two fingers on her neck, feeling her pulse which was slow, but steady.

"She's breathing fine, probably just magical exhaustion or general fatigue from the battle."

Blaise sighed, before looking mournfully at the battlefield. "How many?"

"Too many," Harry replied, before walking off with his head hanging. He walked into the train, and began searching for survivors. He was glad to see that most were okay, shaken, but okay. The Aurors had, luckily, pushed most of the students into the sides of the train, before collapsing the roofs so that there was a blockage.

It seemed that most had survived. Until he came to _the_ compartment.

It was near the middle of the train. Though he did not know it, it was the one next to that which held the Betrayers. He immediately felt queasy as he entered the room, as limbs and blood were spread throughout. He identified Michael Corner, hanging on a spike driven into the wall, who had his pants off and his genitals removed. Harry moved his eyesight away, only to see something so much worse.

All that was left was a torso and head. The arms and legs had been discarded somewhere in the chaos, and her shirt and bra had been removed, leaving her breasts bare. On her chest, the words 'BEWARE OF THE DARK' were engraved, with a mocking lightning bolt going through the 'O'. However, this was not what caused Harry to vomit immediately on the floor, before slumping against the red wall, burying his face in his hands.

It was the blue eyes, which would never regain their dreamy quality.

* * *

**A/N**: I just lost so many followers for killing Luna, didn't I?

**Next Update**: The reunion everyone has been waiting for! Plus, reactions from the Betrayers! And where was Ginny during all of this? All this, and (maybe) more, during the next instalment!

**Next Update**: I hate to do this, but there will be no update until the Wednesday after this, maybe Tuesday at the earliest. Why? Because shit happens. And I have exams on Thursday, Friday, Monday, and Tuesday. But then I'm free!

**Reviews**: Okay guys. Really? I got _EIGHT_ reviews for the last chapter, my longest ever with 4.5K words. I update every single week (which is more than I can say for those authors who update biannually), and I like to think there fairly decent. Last time I checked, I had 668 (holy shite!) followers. Is it that difficult to review every so often?  
Please? Because pretty soon, I'm going to start holding this story hostage and blackmailing you guys and girls to review for the next chapter. Because honestly, I can't keep updating without knowing what you guys want. This is Fanfiction, and I truly do value your opinion.

Regardless, next Tuesday or Wednesday, I'll have a chapter up. Until then, please review. Especially about a name for Harry and Co. because I'm tired of using "the eight" or "the octet" or "Harry and his seven best mates" every time, or how you thought my first battle scene was.


	20. Chapter 20 - Aftermath

**Disclaimer**: All rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 20 – Aftermath

It seemed as though the entire train was in complete silence as the conductor began to drive along the tracks once again. It had taken close to an hour for the four surviving Aurors to make a formal report, before cleaning up all of the bodies. Some of the older students reported that fellow year mates were absent; these individuals had their names recorded. If their bodies were not found, they were presumed to be part of the attack.

All in all, not very many students died. Two of the Aurors went down in battle, but managed to take down seven Death Eaters. Katie Bell was one of only three Hogwarts students who lost their lives in battle, as well as a few younger years who had not managed to be protected quickly enough. The other two who died in battle were Cormac McLaggen and Fay Dunbar.

Those that were saved were all quivering in fear and apprehension. Harry had a nagging suspicion that the attendance rates for the following year would be at an all time low; between Voldemort's presence and this attack on their children, many parents would become so paranoid that they would refuse to let their children resume their education.

The worst casualties by far were the seven Ravenclaws, Luna and Michael from fifth year, as well as their dorm mates Lucy Entwhistle, Norman Davies, and Jonathan Crawford, and as a pair of sixth year girls, Su Li and Mandy Brocklehurst. Harry recognized both from six years of Hogwarts; Su was a quite girl of Asian descent, and had hazel, almond-shaped eyes, long, straight black hair, and long, shapely legs (that Harry had never noticed, of course, because he was hopelessly in love with Daphne by third year, even if he was unaware, and would have never checked out another girl while at Hogsmeade). Mandy, on the other hand, was a rather rambunctious German girl. She had the typical Aryan qualities: curly blonde hair and blue eyes, who also had undeniable beauty that was not hindered by her womanly assets.

While Harry was not necessarily the best of friends with either girl, he knew them well enough from assorted Charms and Transfiguration classes, as well as Dumbledore Army meetings over the years to realize that both girls were incredibly intelligent, and should never have been taken away from their lives at such a young age. None of the students should have, but those two, Luna, and Katie hit Harry the hardest, because he actually knew them; they were not simply names that did not match a personality for him.

All together, Harry had a funny feeling that the next time he saw The Betrayers, he would adopt a Mad-Eye Moody-like mindset, and curse first, and ask questions later. And he knew that if he did not, Daphne or one of the others would for sure.

The Betrayers' guilt in the day's actions was undeniable. All of the evidence was against them: they were mysteriously missing from the train, one of the surviving witnesses, a girl in second year, claimed that she saw a girl with 'bushy hair', and more circumstantial evidence that Harry had kept to himself. The subtle organisation of the corpses was clearly Hermione's actions, while the utter wrath with which the bodies were decimated could only have been Ron.

Harry knew exactly how three or four students in his age group had defeated seven. It did not look like Luna's group had put up much of a fight, which Harry attributed to the 'stun and run' fighting style that most wizards and witches had adopted.

He realized that it was rather illogical to blame Albus for this, but at the same time, he doubted that any of the casualties had been using any spells or curses other than Stunners, Disarmers, and other such charms and jinxes that were completely harmless. The past few generations had all been so influenced by Albus 'forgive and forget' Dumbledore, whose beliefs on second chances and non-lethal spells had resulted in very few wizards and witches even considering using curses such as Cutters, Gouging Hexes, and Sectumsempra (Admittedly, the last curse was not exactly well known). However, the Elite Eight had already agreed with each other that they would use whatever spells and means necessary to survive; if the Death Eaters and Voldemort were not going to play by the rules, neither would they.

Harry also found it ironic that the majority of Wizards and Witches preached about their morality in regards to their lethality of spells, and yet they were so willing to watch a bunch of seventeen year olds (and a fourteen year old) steal an egg from a nesting dragon. The fact that that was considered entertainment was a major factor in the members of the Eight recognizing how corrupt the Magical World was.

Sticking to his form of the past few years, Harry found himself, yet again, wrapped in a cloak of self-loathing. How could he have been so stupid as to not have taken any measures whatsoever in case there was an attack? For every single death that occurred, he found a way to blame himself.

Had he been more proactive, all of those younglings, Luna, Michael, Mandy, and Su could have lived. Even the deaths of the Aurors, Katie, and the other deaths throughout the battle could be blamed on him. For god's sake, he was fighting _right_ _next_ to Katie! How the hell could he have not saved her?

And why did he let Cedric grab the TriWizarding Cup at the same time as he did?

Harry pulled himself out of his guilt and self-loathing. He reminded himself that he could not possibly save every single person's life, no matter how much he wanted to. All that he could do is avenge the deaths of his friends, by killing Voldemort and his servants.

A soft voice interrupted his internal fighting. "How are you?"

He removed his hands from in front of his face and looked up, to see Tracey standing there. "Where are Nev and Daphne?"

"You're avoiding my question," she chided. "And they should be on their way soon. The Aurors wanted to get statements from those of us who were in the battle."

Harry pulled himself out of the corner that he was sitting in, and fell down into the nearest seat. "I was sitting in a corner with my head in my hands. Take a wild guess."

Tracey sat down next to him, smoothing down her skirt. She let out an audible sigh, before speaking, "Yeah, it never really felt real until now. You know, the fact that we were – are – at war."

This statement prompted Harry to gain a haunted look to his eyes as he stared at Tracey's glum form. "It's been real for me since the end of the TriWizard Tournament."

"That's just depressing."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry," he responded, in what he hoped was a sympathetic tone. He wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, and let her rest her head on his shoulder. He rubbed circles on her shoulder and back in what he thought was a comforting manner as she started to shake, silent sobs wracking through her body.

"Hey, what's wrong, Trace?" he asked, tilting her chin upwards with his hand so that he could look into her eyes, mentally cursing Neville for leaving him along with a crying girl.

"I don't know," she said miserably. "I guess I just can't believe that anyone that we knew could do stuff like that."

Harry sighed. "I know what you're talking about. We were naïve; we should have realized that people like Prewitt and Granger would do something. But I never thought that they would be so stupid as to join him."

"Speaking of, do you have any idea what happened to Ginny? I didn't see her during the battle, and I know for a fact that she wasn't a casualty." _Unfortunately_, she added mentally. The girl was one of the three, maybe four if she included Albus, people that she hated the most, for what she had done and tried to do to one of her best friends, and one of the most courageous, compassionate, and charismatic boys that she had ever met.

_People_, not just boys. He was one of, if not the best people in the world, regardless of gender.

Harry gave an amused look. "Yeah, Auror Proudfoot found her. She was hiding behind a bunch of firsties."

She responded with a disgusted look. "How in the hell did she get into Gryffindor?"

"How should I know? The other Betrayers were Lions too, but their plot to take all of my money was rather manipulative and ambitious, traits which belong to only one House."

Tracey gave a small chuckle that soon turned into a wet sob as she remembered all that she had seen less than an hour earlier. "For god's sake, why do I keep crying? I'm a fucking Slytherin, we don't show emotions."

"Hey," Harry said quietly, rubbing the faint track of tears off of her cheek. "Everybody is allowed to show emotions and cry, even Slytherins. It's not a weakness to cry sometimes, and keeping all of those emotions bottled up within you can't possible be healthy."

Tracey just buried her head further into his shoulder, soaking Harry's shirt with her warm tears. He continued to rub small circles into her back for a few more minutes, until she composed herself. Little did they know, the other six were standing outside of the closed compartment, giving the duo room to comfort each other. Neville wanted desperately to charge in and hold Tracey in his arms, but he knew that Harry was best able to understand her situation at the moment.

Blaise gained a wicked smile at the happenings. Though Neville had not actively mocked him while Hannah and Harry shared a moment, he was not about to let this go. "Aww, they would make such a cute-" he began to coo, but he was interrupted by a sudden pain in his thigh, too close to his groin for comfort. He looked around, ignoring Draco's guffaws, and noticed that Daphne was glaring at him dangerously, with a glint in her eyes that clearly told him that next time, she would not miss.

Fighting down the urge to pout, he peered through the window into the compartment and, seeing that its occupants had separated, pulled open the sliding door, and strode in, his arrogant gait missing after the battle and Daphne's hex.

The other five did not wait long before joining Tracey, Blaise and Harry in the enlarged compartment. The boy-who-lived looked at Hannah and Susan in a concerned way. Both Hufflepuff girls had tear tracks down their cheeks.

"Are you two okay?" he asked, motioning to them.

"I've had better days," Susan replied, wiping her nose with a handkerchief. "I guess it's just because we 'Puffs don't have any particular enemies, not like you Snakes and Lions. Out of all the Houses, we Badgers and the Ravens are on best terms with each other. So while most Slytherins and Gryffindors barely know each other, Hannah and I knew Su and Mandy pretty well."

Hannah was glaring angrily at the floor as Blaise rubbed her back softly, which Draco also did to Susan. "I'm gonna kill those bastards for doing that to Su, Luna, and Mandy!"

Silence descended on the group after the threat, until Neville spoke up. "I guess it is a good thing that Tonks was not here, she could have been seriously injured or killed. Although, these gloomy moments make me wish otherwise, she's too damn bubbly to let us sulk for long."

"Why would she be here, anyways?" Susan asked, much calmer than before. "Considering that she is about a month pregnant – oh shite!" she exclaimed, slapping a hand over her mouth to silence herself too late,

Harry felt his jaw drop. "Tonks got pregnant? By whom?"

Susan seemed to be fighting through some kind of internal turmoil. "I wasn't supposed to say anything, so I'm just going to shut up now."

"Not so fast, Suzy," Tracey said, grateful that the conversation was no longer on the war.

The other seven eventually managed to procure the truth that Remus Lupin had impregnated Tonks. By the time that the truth came out, the tension had almost entirely cleared from the room, and they broke into smaller discussions between them.

Not feeling that any of the conversations carried any importance to him, Harry pulled his trunk out from under his seat and opened it, before withdrawing the massive tome that was quickly recognized as the book on Dark Magics written by his ancestor, Morgana LeFay had written.

He flipped through it carefully, ignoring the looks from Daphne and Neville. Though there was some sort of preservation charm on the book to avoid decomposition, Harry did not want to try his luck. With his track record, he was certain that he would manage to ruin it.

Having barely read any of the book so far, as he had very little free time between Daphne, his studies, and all of the drama of the past few weeks, he had only read the first couple of sections. Certain parts seemed to be interesting, if somewhat gruesomely described, such as a modified organ liquefying curse that, with enough concentration, could cause any organs near the contact point to explode outwards, not unlike the entrails expelling curse, but much more violent.

For example, if the curse hit someone's chest, they would be dead nearly instantaneously, as the heart and lungs would explode so violently that the ribcage would completely collapse. The diagram accompanying the description was unnecessary, in Harry's opinion.

Continuing his flipping through the book, he stopped as he noticed the final few pages were centred on something of great importance to him:

_"The darkest and foulest type of Magicks known to humankind is the Horcrux. This piece of magic transfers a portion of one's soul into an object. It is believed to only be possibly on inanimate objects; however, I have irrefutable evidence that it can be done on animate objects as well._

_I have this on such authority because my mentor, whom I killed, Herpo the Foul, used such devices, having formed two altogether. One, a ring, was destroyed during battle with my nemesis Myrddin Emrys, when the sorcerer cast the spell Fiendfyre, scorching off Herpo's left hand in the process._

_The other, however, was my younger sister Morgose. After learning what he had done to her, I turned on him, and begun searching for ways to destroy the part of him within her without actually killing her._

_At first, I considered using the Morte Serena Spell, Avada Kedavra, as it strips the body of a soul. However, if Herpo's soul fragment was dominant, she would die, but continue living as a female Herpo._

_I also threw away the idea of using one of his own creations, the Dementor, for the same reasoning._

_I was, eventually, able to find another way..."_

Harry's breath caught in his throat, causing an odd wheezing sound to be emitted which drew Daphne's attention. At her unasked question, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the other six in the compartment.

As he began to speak, there was a glint in his eyes, one that spoke of how gleeful he was. "I found a section here in which Morgana wrote about Horcruxes, and how she dealt with her sister being a Horcrux."

At the rest of the group's incredulous looks, he read the passage aloud, only being interrupted by Neville asking, "Morte Serena? Since when is that the name for the Killing Curse?"

Blaise responded, a frown on his aristocratic face "That's Italian! It literally means 'peaceful death'. I guess that sort of makes since in a morbid way, since it's a painless curse."

Harry nodded his head. "From what I can tell, all of this was from way before the Ministry was founded, shortly after the Founders lived. Back then, the Avada Kedavra was basically considered to be a Euthanasia Spell, and the Cruciatus was the only spell that they considered to be 'unforgivable.'"

"What about the Imperius?" Draco asked bitterly, his father's time under Voldemort's Imperius still leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

"Quite forgivable back then, old chap," Harry responded in a cheery manner. "Back then, it, like the Avada Kedavra, was the epitome of Grey Magic. It could be used to make someone kill someone else or through themselves off of a cliff, but at the same time, it could also be used to navigate a panicking person out of a burning home. The spells that were considered truly Dark back then were spells only meant to cause pain, but not death. In other words, the Cruciatus."

Susan looked taken aback by this. "You mean stuff like the entrails expelling curse was perfectly legal?"

"It was sort of dicey back then. So long as the spell did what it was meant to do, and caused death without meaningless pain, they simply considered it to be Grey. Nowadays, everything is black and white; Dark and Light, so anything that causes bodily harm is considered Dark."

"That's not completely true," Hannah began, before tapering off at everyone's incredulous looks.

"The Blasting Curse is being contemplated to be classified as Dark," Susan confided. "And while it's not necessarily harmless per se, it is not anywhere near the level of the truly Dark Curses."

Hannah looked appalled at this, but made no move to say anything back. After a moment of silence, Harry read the rest.

"Well?" Tracey asked impatiently. "What is this method that the Darkest Witch to ever live thought up?"

"A transfer," Harry said. At the curious looks he was getting from everyone, he elaborated, "All I need is another Horcrux. There is a ritual that can remove the piece of Tommy boy's soul from me, but it needs another medium to be placed in that contains a fragment of the same soul."

"As in a certain locket that we have been looking for?" Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry chuckled. "Either that, or we need to drag in an unconscious Nagini or Riddle himself."

"That seems _slightly_ unlikely," Daphne commented dryly.

"So this ritual," Hannah began, changing the subject. "What exactly would you need for it? A hundred virgin Veelas or something?"

"It's recommended, but not mandatory," Harry said seriously, causing Neville to snort. "In all seriousness though, it _does_ suggest blood from a virgin Veela, phoenix tears, unicorn blood, and blood from myself and whoever does the ritual."

Tracey gave a low whistle. "Damn, that sounds like you would need some really rare stuff."

"Well, it's clearly all about purity, to heal Harry from such filth," Daphne said.

Harry's eyes widened as he pointed a finger at Daphne. "Would you look at that, mates?" he whispered in a terrible Australian accent. "The creature _Logic_ is very rare to find in this Wizarding World. It's an endangered species that is quickly dying out!"

The five purebloods, Blaise, Daphne, Susan, Neville, and Draco glared as Harry, Hannah, and Tracey cracked up at the joke. "Oh _come on_, the Wizarding World is not _that_ illogical," Neville complained, to which Harry merely raised an eyebrow.

"Salazar Slytherin lived a thousand years ago, and yet nobody ever figured out that the monster in the Parselmouth's chambers was a big snake?"

"Touché, Potter," Draco responded. "Touché."

The rest of the six and a half hour train ride to King's Cross was spent in relative peace for the Eight. Apart from a half hour in which Mad-Eye Moody had entered the cabin, they were left alone.

"I'm here to help you with any trauma from the attack that you may have gained. As an Auror, it's my job to make sure that you don't get Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," Moody had said.

Harry had simply smirked, before saying, "Moody, I should have had psychotherapy since I was eleven and I killed my Defence Professor."

"That almost makes me glad that I never did any teaching here."

The Eight sixth years had then had to talk about their feelings and how they were going to deal with what they saw. When they got to Harry, he simply said, "Honestly? I feel like shite. Every single person out there that died today could have been avoided if Cedric and I had not stood there like idiots, waiting for Voldemort and Wormtail to kill us.

"When I was eleven, I killed Quirrell, when I was twelve, I killed a fucking basilisk, and when I was thirteen, I saved my unjustly imprisoned godfather from around a hundred monsters that suck out people's souls. Then when I was fourteen, I had to steal an egg from a nesting dragon, and then watched Cedric Diggory get slaughtered just because he was in the way.

"I watched Katie Bell die today, standing right next to me, and I could not do a single _fucking_ thing to save her. Katie Bell, who I befriended in my first year because we were on the same Quidditch team, who was my oldest friend who hasn't betrayed me and isn't an owl or Hagrid, Katie Bell who was practically my sister just as much as Luna and Angelina and Alicia, died right before my eyes.

"No offence, Auror Moody, but it's too little and way too goddamn late for people to be worrying about me getting PTSD."

After this speech, he had simply sat down, clueless to the awed looks he was getting from everyone else. Moody gave him an approving look, and was pondering whether to take him on as a protégé as he had Tonks, or to praise his orating abilities, because damn, the kid would be a good war-time leader, judging by the passion with which he spoke.

Settling for the former, the grizzled war veteran plucked a small sheet of parchment out of his coat pocket, and handed it to Harry. At his questioning look, he stated, "My card. If, after all this crap is over, you still want to become an Auror, here's my Floo Address. If I don't make it out this alive, give it to another Auror, like Robards or Tonks, and they will take you on as a protégé."

"Thank you very much," Harry said gratefully. After a short moment of hesitation, he added, "Sir."

"I guess I will probably be seeing you lot soon. Until then .. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Moody seemed almost impressed as there was absolutely no response. Everyone simply gave him disinterested looks, without even a single flinch.

"That got really old, really fast in fourth year," Draco informed him, causing the man to glare at the Malfoy scion before lumbering off, his wooden leg making a dull thudding sound against the floor of the train.

This conversation, as well as the earlier battle, prompted another discussion between Harry and Daphne. "Er, Daph?" Harry asked tentatively. "I was thinking … maybe going to Marauders' Island this summer would not be the best idea."

"And what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Potter?" she growled in a menacing tone. Harry cursed; he had hoped that she would not have been too angry about skipping out on a summer at the beach.

"Just … er … what with everything going on, I thought that it may be best if we spent the summer training. I mean, look at this group. Between us, we would be trained by Amelia Bones, Sirius and Bella Black, Remus Lupin, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Nymphadora, Ted, and Andy Tonks, Maria Zabini, Nathaniel and Stacey Davis, Augusta Longbottom, Seamus and Grace Abbot, and Nicholas and Diana Greengrass. Tell me that that is not an impressive collection of tutors!"

Tracey slowly spoke, "That does sound like a good idea. All of them were involved in the last war, so they would be able to impart good battle strategies and tactics."

"My auntie told me that Minister Scrimgeour was going to make underage magic legal for the summer," Susan shared.

"Except, what if kids like Crabbe and Goyle start using Unforgivables and the like?" Neville questioned.

Susan nodded her head as Neville's claim was not without reason. "The entire law is not being abolished, just ignored. So the Ministry will still be seeing all of the spells being used, where, when, and by whom, but it would be up to their discretion whether or not they would do anything."

"That's good in theory and all," Blaise said. "But in practice, hundreds of kids will be using magic to either train or just to do simple Levitations and other things to avoid chores. There is no way that the Ministry will be able to sort through every single spell in time, there's bound to be a few of the Darker curses that will slip through. And it's not like we will be using the most innocent curses, either."

Susan shrugged, and Draco responded, "My father will be able to get us a permit for a building that will not be monitored by the Ministry. However, that does not resolve the other problem."

The group looked, out of reflex, to Harry, only to see him sleeping, presumably. They could not be sure, however, because his head was buried in Daphne's lap, as she ran her fingers through her messy hair, ignoring the looks from their friends.

The group quickly agreed to spend the summer training, so that they could live long enough to spend many summers in a nude beach.

When the train pulled into King's Cross station, the four couples were all in various positions. Hannah was sitting on Blaise's lap, running her hands through his hair as he kissed along her neck. He had just arrived at the top of her cleavage when the train let out several loud honks to announce their arrival, startling them apart.

Meanwhile, Tracey was holding Neville's hand, whispering to him. His nervousness was understandable, of course. He was about to meet someone that he had hated for all of his life, but now knew to be innocent of torturing his parents into insanity.

How the hell was he _supposed_ to react to that?

Susan and Draco, not unlike Hannah and Blaise, were snogging passionately. Unlike the other couple, however, they were standing, with Draco's back up against the wall while Susan's legs were wrapped tightly around his torso like a boa constrictor. Her hands were doing their best to mess up Draco's gelled hair, while Draco's hands were creeping farther and farther up Susan's thighs, massaging the creamy flesh as he hiked her skirt up even higher.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and they were rudely interrupted much like Blaise and Hannah. However, they were so startled that Draco dropped Susan but, because her legs were wrapped around him, she took him down with her. She unwound her legs somehow as he twisted around so that he would not fall on top of her. This was a mistake.

She was unable to move her leg in time, though she was able to reduce the impact enough that her knee only glanced off of his groin. It was still enough for him to pale even further than normal and emit a small, high pitched squeak. It was not for nothing though, as his face was, for the second time that week (on accident, anyways) smothered by her ample bosom. She started to get up, only for him to grasp her firm rear and pull her back down on him, keeping his face firmly entrenched in her breasts.

"Draco, we need to go now," she whispered.

"It hurts," he whined piteously.

"Once we get to Malfoy or Bones Manor, I will kiss it better, but you have to get up first."

Rather than making a comment about how he was already up, he shot to his feet, grabbing her arm to keep her standing, before asking, "What are we waiting for?" to which she pointed at the final couple.

At some time during the trip, Daphne had joined Harry in his nap, and was now lying on top of him. They had been awoken by the sudden noise of the train, but were far too comfortable to move.

Oblivious to the stares from their friends, Daphne teased, "Why Mr. Potter, is that your wand or are you just excited to see me?"

Harry chuckled, an action that she could feel as his chest pulsed against hers. "Does it matter? Either way, it's eleven inches of wood." Daphne giggled, until Draco walked (limped) over to them and pulled her off of him by her feet, causing her to fall to the floor, which he had administered a Cushioning Charm to.

After all, he valued his jewels far too much to even slightly harm the Ice Queen.

Finally, six excited and two disgruntled teens, all very hormonal, got out of the train, prepared to start a new chapter of their lives, and meet a mass murderer.

Or as Draco liked to call her, 'Aunt Bella.'

**A/N:** Sorry that the chapter is so late, but I did it as fast as possible. Also, I hit the 5000 words mark that I was aiming for!

**Next Chapter:** Hopefully by Saturday. My schedule will probably be much more random, but I do solemnly swear to update at least once a week.

**Ginny:** Very anticlimactic, but it was either that or her being raped by Crabbe/Goyle, and that would have caused them to sympathize with her.

**Betrayer's Death:** If, theoretically, I were to kill off a 'villain', either Molly, Hermione, or Ginny, within the next 3-5 chapters, who would you want it to be?

**Reviews:** Holy fuck! You guys are awesome, I honestly did not expect that many reviews! Can we do it again? (Rest assured, I _probably_ won't put this story hostage)

Anyways, what did you guys think?


	21. Chapter 21 - The Order of the Phoebe

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise; all rights go to J.K. Rowling.

_Fair Warning: Disturbing omake at the end. Very, very disturbing and dark. Definite elements of rape. Viewer discretion is advised._

Chapter 21 – The Order of the Phoebe

* * *

After the eight friends vacated the Hogwarts Express, they started moving towards the illusion of a barrier to the Muggle train station, only to be accosted by a large group of reddish orange haired individuals, as well as three other girls that Harry recognized easily.

"Harry, dear boy, how have you been?" one of the boys asked, only for another, identical boy to step in front of him as he reached out his hand.

"Old chap, how has the past year at ole Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts treated you?" The second boy also reached out his hand to grasp Harry's in a firm shake.

Harry gave the identical twins an amused look. "Fred, George, how's the shop doing?"

Harry had a vested interest in Fred and George's shop – Weasley Wizard Wheezes – because he had given them a thousand galleons to start with; his TriWizard earnings. Whether he had done so out of kindness to two people whom he knew would cheer up everyone's lives in the dark future ahead, or because he did not want to keep money that he had won because of Cedric's death was an enigma that not even Harry could answer.

Fred and George's eyes widened simultaneously, as the girls whose hands they had been holding prior to their theatrics gasped. "How did you-" George began.

"Tell us apart?" Fred finished incredulously; causing Harry's lips to quirk upwards at their usual twin speak.

"It was quite simple, really," Harry answered. "The easy answer would be that Fred always introduces himself first; the complex answer is that George has a mole behind his left ear that Fred does not have, and Fred was with Angelina while George was with Alicia. While the two of you enjoy messing around, neither of you have the balls to mess with your girlfriends."

Fred and George gaped for a few seconds in silence, until it was broken by Fred's, "Well, damn."

George glared back at him. "I told you we should switch it up, but did you listen to me? No! And now what's happened? Ickle Harrikins has us figured out!"

Once Fred and George or, as they preferred to be called, Gred and Forge, were finished with their theatrical introductions, Harry further moved forwards, into hugs from Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinett. The two girls had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with him until the previous year when they graduated.

Unfortunately, this line of thought only caused Harry to choke up as he remembered the third member of the Gryffindor Flying Foxes, as Lee Jordan had fondly nicknamed them.

Harry simply hugged both girls tightly, murmuring greetings. Charlie, the second oldest Weasley, strode up to him, and shook his hand firmly. "Harry, how have you been?"

Harry smiled as he saw Forge and Gred terrorizing Neville and Tracey. "No teachers trying to kill me - other than Snape, of course - no Dementor attacks, and no basilisks," Harry paused, considering. "Pretty decent year, all together. How has Romania been treating you?"

Harry had met Charlie in fourth year, when he congratulated Harry for his showing against the Hungarian Horntail, and praised his flying abilities. The boys turned out to have a lot in common, as both had decorated careers as Gryffindor seekers.

"Not bad, Norberta's become quite the feisty one. Gave me this," he admitted, pointed to a long scar down his neck.

"Bill, Fleur, I believe that congratulations are in order."

The silver-blonde haired quarter Veela smiled widely and hooked her arm into a blushing Bill Weasley. The main defining feature for Bill in comparison to his siblings was the loops that hung from his ears, giving him a roguish look. Bill shook Harry's hand firmly, while Fleur opted for a tight hug which would have reduced most males to a drooling mess.

"Thanks, are there any congratulations due to you and the Lady yet?" he asked, motioning to Daphne while grinning proudly.

The raven haired Gryffindor winked, "Not that I know of." Changing the subject, he turned to his former competitor, "Fleur, I hope that I am finding you well?"

"Oui, and you, 'Arry?"

"I am doing well also, thank you."

Before he could continue catching up with Bill and Fleur, Bill continued, "By the way Harry, our wedding has been moved to outside of Delacour Manor in France."

"What brought upon this change of venues?" Daphne queried.

"Necessity, and my dad finally standing up to Molly," he answered, sneering as he mentioned his mother. "A wedding in France makes so much more sense, what with the lack of civil war there, and without _her_ demanding it to be right outside of the Burrow..." Bill trailed off, not needing to finish the statement.

Harry nodded, and said, "Well, Daphne and I will be there, so we shall see you then – actually, Fleur, I was wondering I could ask you a more … er, personal question." Fleur tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as Daphne giggled, knowing what Harry was going to ask. Draco and Susan, hearing their conversation, walked over to see the spectacle.

"Well, you see, I found that I have a, uh, a piece of Voldemort's soul in my scar," he began, causing Bill to gasp, as did Fleur, who covered her mouth with her hand. "I found a ritual that could get this thing, this Horcrux, out of me, but the thing is, I need the blood of a virgin Veela, so, uh," he trailed off awkwardly.

Fleur carefully raised a sculpted eyebrow. "I am sorry, 'Arry, but I am afraid that I would be unable to fulfill that role."

Harry blushed, and bit his lip gently. "Uh, what about, uh, Gabrielle?"

This time, even Fleur blushed slightly. "As far as I know, but I will ask 'er. When will you be doing zis ritual?"

"As soon as possible, I don't want a piece of his soul within me for any longer than I need to."

"I will try, 'Arry," she said, before hugging him once again and moving past him. Harry scowled at Draco and Susan, who were unable to hide their amusement.

He then walked past Bill and exchanged greetings with the Weasley Patriarch. "Mr. Weasley, I presume you are here to check up on your daughter?"

Arthur winced at the mention of his daughter. "No, I am not. In fact, I am here to apologize to you on behalf of my youngest son, daughter, and ex-wife."

"There's no need to apologize sir, it was there actions and choices, not yours."

"Still, I must-"

"Mr. Weasley, you and your family have given me a home for the past several summers, and I look to you as a father," Harry interrupted. "There is no need for you to apologize to me."

Arthur smiled warmly. "Very well Harry, and I must insist you call me Arthur," he chided gently.

"Of course, Arthur," Harry chuckled.

"Were you aware of the attack on the Hogwarts Express?" Daphne asked.

"There was an attack? What happened?" Charlie asked, having overheard them talking, drawing the attention of the rest of the Weasley family.

"Yeah, Death Eaters raided the Express. Only a few died, there were not too many," Draco assured Fleur, who had gasped at the news.

"Oh god," Angelina gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Anyone that we knew?"

Harry looking down sadly was all that she needed. Alicia prompted an answer, "Who?"

"Luna," Harry gulped, before continuing. "Luna Lovegood and ... and Katie. I'm so sorry," he added as Angelina and Alicia collapsed into Fred and George's arms, respectively.

"You don't need to apologize, Harry," Angelina started, but was cut off by Harry.

"She was right next to me," he claimed, causing them to quiet immediately. "I was right next to her, and I couldn't do a damn thing to save her."

Harry was stunned as he felt a hand collide with his cheek. He gaped at Alicia, who was fighting back tears in what seemed to be a losing battle. "Harry, we've known you for six years now, so we've become used to you blaming yourself. However, I swear to god that if you keep blaming yourself for Katie's death, Voldemort will be nothing when compared to what we will do to you," she said pointing at the rest of the Quidditch team and his friends, all of whom nodded threateningly, causing Harry to gulp.

"Look, Harry," Angelina said comfortingly, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Did you send the curse that killed Katie?" she choked out, to which Harry shook his head vehemently. "Did you try to stop it?" This time, Harry nodded.

"Then it would be completely illogical for us to blame you," George said, his solemn tone very foreign to Harry.

The green eyed wizard looked around, observing all of their faces. To his shock, none of them seemed to be blaming him!

"Just out of curiosity," Fred began, "Did you happen to see who did send the curse that ... you know ... killed her?"

Harry shook his head at first, but stopped himself half way through. "I'm not sure, but there were three of them, I think." Harry screwed up his eyes in obvious concentration. "One of them was Dolohov, I think-"

"Antonín Dolohov?" Charlie asked. "Azkaban escapee?"

"A lot of Death Eaters are Azkaban escapees," Harry said dryly, causing Charlie to blush. "But yes, that was him. Another was Nott Sr., I'm sure of him." Arthur's eyes narrowed at the mention of his tormentor and fellow Ministry employer. "And the last one ... I'm honestly not sure. He was big, and he had short, greying hair. That's all I could see with the mask covering his face."

The former Quidditch players nodded. "So Dolohov, Nott Sr., and a mysterious-"

Angelina was cut off by Arthur's, "Your description sounds like Albert Runcorn, actually."

"Albert Runcorn?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed in thought.

"It sure sounds like it. Why?" Arthur reaffirmed.

"My dad's told me about him. He works in the Ministry, right? Dad said that he was believed to have been affiliated with Tom during the first war, but pleaded Imperius."

Angelina spoke up again, continuing her previous train of thought. "So Runcorn, Nott, and Dolohov are all going to die painfully." Fred smiled sadistically, while Harry gaped.

"You guys are willing to use lethal force?" he asked incredulously; the Weasleys were just about as Light as they come, and he found it difficult to believe that they were willing to kill.

"Of course," Alicia responded as though it was obvious. "Won't you?"

"Yes," Neville answered. "We just didn't think that you guys of all people were willing to kill others."

"They killed Katie," George said grimly.

"In response, we will kill them," Fred continued.

Together, they exclaimed, "We'll kill them all!" before laughing maniacally. The action drew the eyes of many students, but once they saw the twins, the non-first years just moved on without another glance, hoping to avoid the prank that they most likely expected.

"Okay then," Blaise said, drawing out the first syllable. "Should we be going now then?"

"Where are Ronald and Hermione?" Bill asked coolly, noticing Ginny walking towards the fireplace forlornly.

"Er ... they uh ... they joined the Death Eaters during the attack."

Bill looked at Susan astounded, as if hoping that she was joking. "But why?" he asked, as if to himself. "After what happened to Uncles Fabian and Gideon, why would they join their killers?"

Arthur looked at him with a small frown on his lips. "Greed makes people do strange things, boys."

"Hey, I just noticed something!" Neville pointed out eagerly. "Haven't you guys ever noticed the irony that George is the only one with a name that isn't shortened; William, Charles, Percival, Frederick, Ronald, and Ginevra," he elaborated, causing Fred and George to stare at each other in awe.

"I'm unique," George said dreamily, his mouth wide open.

"Wait, you guys said that you were willing to use legal force, right?"

"Of course, we're not going to kill V-Voldemort with an Expelliarmus, are we?" George joked, causing Harry to gape once again as he referred to Voldemort by that name rather than 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'.

Harry chuckled, "Right. So if we," he began, gesturing to everyone there, "Were to start our own Order of the Phoenix, but a version that was not worried about forgiveness or the lethality of our spells, would you guys be interested?"

Harry licked his lips nervously as he waited for an answer, and let out a loud sigh as all of the current and future Weasleys nodded at once. "Good," he continued. "I guess I will just Floo call the Burrow when we have everything organized? It should be within the next few days," he assured.

The Weasley family was about to leave, when Charlie stopped them. "Wait – if we are going to form our own group of vigilantes, what should we be called?"

Harry shrugged, but Tracey piped up. "How about a spin-off of Order of the Phoenix? Like ... The Order of the Phoebe?"

"The Greek Titan of the Moon?" Hannah asked, to which Tracey nodded an affirmative. "An homage to Luna," she muttered in a voice that was barely audible, though they all could hear her.

"I like it, if anyone cares," Blaise said.

"No one cares, Blaise," Draco said, causing Harry and Neville to snicker.

"All right, so everyone is fine with 'The Order of the Phoebe?'" Harry asked, running a hand through his messy locks wearily. As everyone nodded eagerly, he dismissed them, saying, "I will Floo you guys to let you know where Potter Manor is, and key you all into the wards."

"Does your place have a lot of wards?" Bill asked, causing Harry to smirk darkly.

"Yeah, one or two."

With that, he and the other seven hugged the Weasley family goodbye, cumulating with Angelina pulling Harry close to herself. "It's not your fault," she whispered into his ear.

"I know," he murmured into her hair in response.

Angelina drew back, and her hazel eyes stared into his emerald green orbs. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah. I know," he answered, his voice displaying how irritated he was.

Angelina pulled him into another, tighter hug, causing Fred to nudge George and whisper, "Should I be worried?"

"It is not your fault, little brother," she said sternly. This time, it was Harry who pulled away with a raised eyebrow.

"If you're trying to make me break into tears, it's not going to work." With an amused smirk, he leaned forward and kissed her smooth, ebony cheek gently, before winking and walking away as Angelina cursed quietly.

George whispered back to his twin, "If he weren't so scared of Daphne, I would say yes."

"Shut it, you!" Alicia said sternly, causing George to pale.

"Of course, love," he said hurriedly, before kissing her on the cheek and walking towards the fireplace, hand in hand.

Meanwhile, the other members of the new Order of the Phoebe walked through the illusion of a barrier, discussing their next plan of actions.

"So those terrible Muggles don't know that you are staying at a new home now?" Hannah asked, with an amused look on her face.

"They have no idea, but they think that I will be taking the bus home," Harry smirked.

"But how _will_ you get home?" This time, Susan asked the question.

Daphne explained their plan, causing the rest of their friends to smile widely. "Ooh ooh can we come?" Blaise asked in a childish manner. "Pleeeease?"

"If we say yes, will you shut up?" Harry asked.

"Yes!"

Harry and Daphne gave each other one look, and then, with timing that would make Fred and George jealous, said, "Then yes!" Tracey, Susan, and Hannah giggled at the display.

They quickly found a large group of individuals. Blaise walked towards a pair of beautiful women, who resembled sharks in that they seemed able to smell blood. He introduced them as his mother and sister, Maria and Angela Zabini, the latter of which was three years older then Blaise.

Hannah was embraced tightly by her mother, Grace, while Seamus, her father, merely opted to glare threateningly at Blaise.

Neville greeted Augusta in a traditional pureblood manner befitting of his station, brushing his lips against her knuckles gently, before suddenly being hugged, a display of affection towards her grandson that she had never shown before.

Nathaniel Davis, like his cousin Seamus, glared at Neville, while Stacey hugged Tracey close to her chest, telling her daughter how proud she was.

Susan and her Auntie Amelia Bones embraced as well, while Draco nodded towards Lucius but hugged Narcissa, his Aunt Andromeda, and Nymphadora, while shaking hands with Ted Tonks. Harry did the same, as well as scratching the fur of a certain grim, and raised an eyebrow at a raven hovering above his godfather. "Hello, Aunt Bella," he murmured, as she nipped his and Draco's fingers encouragingly.

Finally, Daphne hugged both Diana and Nicholas, who had already glared at Harry enough times over the years, and waited for Astoria, who arrived a few minutes later.

Once all eight families had gathered, the young adults, not including Astoria, were given permission to go with Sirius and Harry to the Dursleys' place of residence; number four, Privet Drive.

The eight Junior Marauders began to walk out of Kings Cross Station with the grim walking with them and the raven flying above. Harry whistled as he saw the car that Sirius was planning on driving them in, and Blaise made a 'whooping' noise.

"Let's roll some heads!"

* * *

Lord Voldemort was not known for his mercy, nor was he known for being compassionate to those of less than pure blood. Thus, he found himself facing a dilemma as he observed twelve Junior Death Eaters, as he referred to them as.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had not gained the brains that their fathers had – which was saying something. Alas, the Dark Lord found that more and more of his recruits were incompetent buffoons that rarely knew of spells other then the Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra.

Marietta Edgecombe, while not particularly easy on the eyes, was talented enough, and was still malleable enough that Molly and Alecto could shape her into the type of witch that he required.

Zacharias Smith was arrogant; of that, there was no doubt. He could only hope that he would be beaten into submission quickly and learn his lesson. Perhaps he would set her against the Mudblood Granger in her tests ...

Ronald Weasley seemed to be rather incompetent; however, in this day and age, many seemed to be, but at least he got a decent strategist out of this. Besides, he doubted that he would have gained Molly's allegiance without him.

Next to him was Hermione Granger, the Mudblood. He laughed inwardly at the thought of truly allowing such a creature within his ranks, as if!

The other six were likewise pathetic, though he was surprised by the presence of a Gryffindor, Trevor Mallory. Breaking himself out of his musings, he began to speak in a cold, high voice.

"Welcome, my friends. How was the attack?"

Dolohov, a prominent dueller, walked forward, and kissed the hem of his robes. He then licked his lips before speaking nervously. "Master, we did as you asked. Potter and his friends broke up the attack, but we managed to take down a few that were important to him. Katie Bell, Luna Lovegood-"

"But you failed to capture the Greengrass heiress?"

Dolohov winced at the Dark Lord's sibilant tone, almost at the hiss that he was known for. "That is correct, my lord."

There seemed to be a twitch in Voldemort's eye, something that would have amused him had he not been so afraid. His fear was well placed, as his master withdrew his wand, and exclaimed, "Crucio!"

Hermione and Ron winced - Hermione because of the screams of pains, Ron because he saw a grey haired man, Runcorn, stand behind his mother and begin to fondle her breasts, causing him to look away immediately. The torture curse was held for only a minute, as Dolohov was one of the Dark Lord's best, and he did not want to have damaged goods.

"Dinky!" he said sharply, causing a small House Elf to appear, covered in bruises and wearing only a rag over her loins. "Take this to the Infirmary." The servant popped away, taking one of his best remaining subordinates with her.

He observed the rest of the room, and sighed inwardly at the Mudblood's affronted look. "What?" he asked impatiently.

"My lord, how could you do such a thing as resort to slavery of another species?" Voldemort began to tune her out as she ranted about Elf Rights. Finally, she stopped, and Voldemort noticed that everyone was glaring at her except for him.

He chuckled quietly, while inwardly wanting nothing more than to curse the stupid Mudblood. "I must say, it is nice to see someone with spirit, with their own definite views of the world ... perhaps we should have you run the gauntlet now, shall we? That way, you can be inducted into my ranks faster, yes?"

He smirked evilly as she walked into an adjacent room to prepare for her death, her head held high with pride at what she deemed to have been a compliment.

* * *

The Rolls Royce Silver Spirit MKIV sped down the road in Little Whinging, Surrey. The sight of such an expensive car was unusual to the normal people of the suburbs, causing many to try to catch a glimpse of it. Had they been able to see past the dark tinted windows, they would have seen the notorious criminal Sirius Black, as well as several – eight, to be exact – males and females in their late teens.

"So let me get this right," Blaise laughed, "You broke into the Hufflepuff dorms and stole all of the knickers?" Sirius nodded, "How did you get in?"

"That's what she said!" Draco shouted, before paling at Susan's glare.

Sirius let out a loud, bark-like laugh that resembled his animagus form. "Actually, it was ... uh, my girlfriend who let me in … Amelia."

Susan's jaw dropped. "Amelia, as in my Auntie?"

Sirius chuckled weakly. "Yeah, we were sort of in a relationship from sixth year until, well, my incarceration."

Susan gaped, "My auntie always told me that she had been dating a rogue until Tom fell - that was you?" Sirius ran a hand through his hair, the other hand guiding the steering wheel as he turned into Privet Drive. "She still loves you, you know?"

Sirius turned towards Susan suddenly, nearly driving into a parked auto. "Really?"

"She has never been with anyone else, so really."

Rather than replying, Sirius pulled into the driveway of number four, and pulled open the door, hopping out. "Are you going to let them live?" he asked his godson.

Harry gave him a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry that this came out later than I expected. What do you think?

**Poll**: I put a poll on my profile, please check it out. It's about what my next story should be; rest assured (for those who care), it won't be released until this is over.

**This story**: Probably around ten more chapters maximum I think, but I'm not sure. Damn, it's been a ride!

**Next Chapter**: Hopefully by Friday; Hermione's test, Dursley terrorizing, a long awaited reunion, and maybe even a bit more!

**Credit:** I got the idea for "The Order of the Phoebe" from _**The Blind Dragon**_, thank you very much for that.

**Omake**: Ginny's death, dedicated to: _**Albionia **_**(Warning!)**

The Hogwarts Express was full of panicking students. The beams of lights that were spells were shot haphazardly, causing a few students that were not paying attention to get hit and fall. Some of the younger students ran around like chickens with their heads removed, unable to do anything except for screaming and causing a ruckus.

The Death Eaters thrived off of this panic.

The students from the younger years – first through third – were astounded as they saw a student that they were able to easily recognize as Ginny Weasley, the Gryffindor Quidditch hero, though many had lost their respect for the girl.

This would cause her to lose even more respect.

She pushed a small, blonde girl in second year out of the way as she hastily made her way to the back of the Express, where she hoped that she would be fine. Once at the final compartments, she shoved open a door, to reveal a bunch of frightened first years. That explained why there had been no locking charms on the door, as most of the rooms had at least one.

She heard a thunderous rumbling, and turned around to see the ceiling cave in. She sighed, knowing that she was safe, at least for know, and quickly grabbed a first year and hid behind him, not wanting to get hit by any debris. However, she had picked the wrong department.

A group of Slytherin first and second year boys, who had been debating the wonders of the female body.

"Aah! Let go of me, you fat, filthy snake!" she exclaimed, as a chubby boy groped her breasts.

That seemed to have pulled some sort of trigger, as all of the boys suddenly swarmed her, pulling her to the ground and ripping her clothes off. One boy bit her nipple, hard enough to draw blood, and gave his friend a triumphant look.

"You owe me a galleon!"

"Do not!"

"Do to! You said that boobs only had milk in them! See this?" he continued, pointing at the thin line of blood. "Blood!" The other first year begrudgingly handed over a galleon to his friend.

"Get off of me, you twerps!" she shouted, only to be kicked in the back of her head by one of the boys. Another grabbed a small pocket knife out of his bag, and put it up against her throat.

"What did you say?" he asked menacingly.

The Aurors later found the body of Ginevra, daughter of none, stuffed into a luggage bag. Her breasts had been cut off and placed against her nether regions, and her throat had been slit.

One of the Aurors had vomited immediately; the other, who had known about what she did to Harry, simply closed the luggage compartment once again, and walked away.


	22. Chapter 22 - The Gauntlet

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise; all rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 22 – The Gauntlet

* * *

"The rules of the gauntlet are simple; fight until the opponent is either incapacitated, killed, or admits defeat." The Dark Lord Voldemort spoke in a cold, high voice that promised pain. "This gauntlet will be between Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, and the Death Eaters Theodore Nott Sr. and Amycus Carrow, and the future Death Eater, Adrian Pucey. If the Mudblood defeats all three, then she shall be invited into our ranks; if not, she will be given to her defeater as spoils of battle."

Hermione had to consciously prevent herself from glaring at or berating the Dark Lord for his use of the term 'Mudblood'. She had to prove herself, and she doubted that insulting the Dark Lord's beliefs would get her in his good books.

If anything, it would get her six feet under ground.

The Dark Lord, having finished his speech, sat down in an obsidian throne that reeked of malevolence at the very end of the room. The room itself was close to the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but had been used as a ballroom and, most recently, a throne room. They stood within the walls of Nott Manor in Edinburgh, a magnificent estate that spanned several acres and included a stable, a megalomaniac Dark Lord, and an underground dungeon that held several prisoners, the most notable being the former Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, though he was barely recognizable after the torture that he had endured.

Surprisingly, the coward had suddenly shown some bravery, as he still had yet to break and give the Death Eaters information. Admittedly, they were just toying with him. If they wanted the information that he held, they would use Legilimency, or Veritaserum.

On one end of the hall stood Hermione, her back as straight and posture as confident as she could manage; on the other side, her three opponents stood, one in front of the other. The four competitors were surrounded by a massive, oblong orb of magic that would contain any and all spells used by them, ensuring that stray spells would not endanger Death Eaters.

Theodore Nott Sr. stepped forward first cockily, obviously not expecting much, if any, resistance.

She would have to rectify that.

By playing to his arrogance and underestimating of her, she felt confident that she would be able to incapacitate him quickly enough to still be prepared for Amycus and Pucey.

Nott Sr. and Carrow were both extremely talented Death Eaters in their own rights, while her memories of watching Quidditch told her that Pucey would be relentless and brutal, if his performances on the pitch had any relation to his duelling abilities.

The Dark Lord merely nodded his head, and Nott withdrew his wand, before bowing, an action that was responded in kind by Hermione. Clearly, she expected Nott to be her first enemy; that he would attack first.

As a result, she never saw the silently cast "Diffindo" from the recently graduated Slytherin, Adrian Pucey, coming until she felt a sudden ache in her back, and reached around to feel the warm substance of blood.

She whirled around, to see Pucey smirking maliciously at her. She scolded herself inwardly for thinking that they would play fair.

But if they wouldn't, neither would she.

Loudly, and with an obvious wand gesture, she said, "Expelliarmus!" Her tactic succeeded, as Pucey simply batted away the spell with a condescending smirk. She looked around to see Ron looking on in confusion, clearly not understanding her strategy, while Molly gave her an approving look, apparently comprehending.

Suddenly, she shot off a flurry of spells. All were silently cast, catching Pucey by surprise. A Reducto aimed at his head caused him to duck, thus unable to avoid the Cutting Curse to his knee, or the subsequent Banishing Charm that sent him into the magical barrier.

Apparently the barrier contained some sort of electrical current, as he began convulsing in pain, before falling to the ground, unconscious.

Before Nott had time to react, she did the same to him, only for the male Carrow to levitate Nott away from the barrier with a flick of his wand. He gave a disparaging look towards Pucey for underestimating an opponent – even if it was a Mudblood.

He would not make the same, potentially fatal, mistake.

Amycus shared a brief look with Nott Sr., who nodded, before positioning himself to take on the Mudblood next.

Unlike their younger future cohort member, Nott was experienced, and not about to play around. Instead, he quickly sent an Avada Kedavra, causing her to duck – right into a "Confringo" – a Blasting Charm that sent her flying backwards several feet. It was only because of her intelligence that she had positioned herself as far away from the barrier as possible that she did not collide with it.

Even if she had any doubts about joining the Death Eaters before, being given to Nott or Carrow gave her all of the incentive that she needed.

Dodging a Cruciatus, she rolled into a crouch, before summoning a simple Protego shield to avoid another Confringo. She jumped to her feet, and then avoided some sort of Dark curse that she had never seen before.

Going on the offensive, she began unloading a series of her most powerful and damaging curses and hexes. She did so in such a way that each wand movement lead into another, the constant motion allowing her to string the spells together.

Nott avoided a Blood-Boiling Curse and Conjured a pillar of marble to shield himself from an Organ Liquefying Curse. Hermione Banished the shards towards Nott who, while able to shield or avoid most of them, gained a few cuts on his face and arms for the effort.

Before he could even send another spell at the proclaimed 'brightest witch of her year', said witch continued her barrage of harmful Magics at him, including the purple spell that Antonín Dolohov had used on her, and Sectumsempra, the latter of which nearly scalped him. Having to duck, however, disabled him from being able to avoid the Cutting Curse to his knees, causing him to fall onto his knees. One "Expelliarmus!" later, his wand clattered to the floor.

Nott's eyes widened at the prospect of having lost a duel – to a Mudblood, no less! He decided to use another strategy as the girl walked up to him, chest heaving as Carrow simply watched on, and indifferent expression on his face.

Hermione stepped to him and pointed her wand at his head. "Submit?" she asked, only for him to kick her legs out from underneath, flooring her and knocking the breath out of her lungs momentarily.

Cocky as he was, he decided against going for his wand, opting to continue the physical attack instead. He quirked an eyebrow as her gaze hardened as he stood above her menacingly, only to be replaced by widened eyes and a pitiful moan as he fell to his knees, clutching his groin after her foot made contact with it.

Unwilling to give up her advantage this time, Hermione walked over to him, and stepped on his throat. Whereas before it was a question, tentative, it was now a threatening statement.

"Submit."

Nott Sr. clearly did not want to be shown up by a Mudblood, as evidenced by his squirming. However, she simply twisted her foot so that it dug deeper into his neck. Barely able to speak, he croaked out, "I submit."

She had next to no time before Amycus Carrow Banished her several feet away once again. She got to her feet slowly, her back aching from the second fall – only for her to be in much more pain as he cried, "Crucio!"

It felt like needles in every vein, every extremity, like an acupuncture gone terribly wrong. Pain coursed through her entire body, and every joint throbbed and ached with unimaginable pain until, finally, she was given a respite, brief though it may be.

She looked up through what seemed to be a hazy veil covering her vision to see the male Carrow's sneering visage above her, taunting her.

"Submit." Unlike her first attempt, it was clear that if she did not do so, then she would feel even more pain. Luckily, he had, in his arrogance, forgone the fairly standard procedure of kicking the wand away from one's opponent's hand, prohibiting them from doing exactly what she was about to do.

So, Hermione clutched tightly to her wand, and replied in a voice that was raspy due to her exposure to the Cruciatus. "I ... Confringo!" she responded, tricking Carrow into thinking that she gave up, while Blasting him across the room.

Before he could get back up, she sent a Bone-Breaking Hex at his chest, breaking a rib and, hopefully, puncturing a lung. As he clutched his chest in pain, she took the advantage, channelling all the hatred that she had for the man who wanted to rape and torture her.

"Crucio!" She felt an odd sense of contentment as he writhed in pain under the curse, screaming his throat hoarse. Finally, she stopped, and without waiting even a moment, she cast, "Stupefy!" effectively ending the duel as the sod fell into unconsciousness.

Hermione looked around for a moment, expecting another opponent, when she noticed the pride in Molly and Ron's features, while the Dark Lord reeked of disbelief, as though he had doubted that a Muggleborn could have defeated two of his better, Inner Circle, Death Eaters. But she had.

Hermione Granger fell to her knees as the euphoria of success hit her.

* * *

Vernon and Petunia Dursley, as well as their as their seventeen year old son Dudley, prided themselves on their normalcy. They gossiped like normal people, Vernon worked for a boring business and did normal work, and Dudley had normal (albeit aggressive) friends and went to a normal school.

Thus, their nephew Harry Potter was a black spot on their record.

Harry was, unlikely as it may seem, a Wizard. And the Dursleys abhorred him for that, because it ruined the normalcy that they had developed. Petunia, whose sister had been a witch and was Harry's mother, knew that, fortunately, Harry's seventeenth birthday was fast arriving and with it, he would be gone from their lives, hopefully forever.

The date was June the 27th; Dudley's last day of school and less than a week after his seventeenth birthday. More important, a mere month until Harry was gone forever, probably the only time that they would value anything above their "precious Duddykin's" birthday - or anything to do with their only child.

At the current time, Petunia held a binocular to her eyes, spying on her neighbours. She squealed as she watched her neighbour, Mrs. Oakes, in an intimate relationship - judging by their nudity and their close proximity – with someone else who most definitely was _not _Mr. Oakes.

Petunia, or anyone else for that matter, was unsure whether she squealed because of the blackmail potential, or because of some romantic part of her that wanted to have an affair. She never once thought that it was a slight invasion of privacy to be staring at her neighbour through her window.

_'Serves Mrs. Oakes right for cheating on her husband in her backyard where anyone could have seen her_,' she mused to herself. _'Speaking of "in her backyard_"...'

The doorbell rang - likely announcing The Boy's arrival, though Petunia was surprised that he was so early this year. A quick check told her that Dudley was busy watching his favourite show on the telly, Vernon was looking through the refrigerator, and Mrs. Oakes was apparently feeling rather bold. Placing her binoculars on the counter, she hurried over to the door, expecting to usher Harry in before any of the neighbours could see his freakishness, only for her to be greeted by...

If Petunia had expected to see The Boy standing there, his thrice be damned broom slung over one shoulder and lugging a trunk and owl around, then she could not have been more wrong.

Instead, she found The Boy feeling up some blonde girl while snogging her, with six other kids his age watching, as well as an adult with scraggly hair and mischievous brown eyes. Instantly, she came to the conclusion that The Boy had, someway somehow managed to force the girl into doing this. As a result, her shriek, though amusing to her viewers, was eerily alike to that of Molly Weasley.

"Boy! How could you use … use _it _to make a girl do this?" Harry felt amused that she still refused to use the term magic, as if it was taboo.

"Aunt Petunia," he greeted pleasantly. "How are you? Perhaps you recognize this man," he motioned towards Sirius, "My godfather, Sirius Black?" Her gasp told him all that he needed to know, but he decided to keep going. "You know: mass murderer, wanted criminal, prison escapee and best friend of my father, who you and your husband have insulted for the past fifteen years?"

She paled in further recognition as she remembered seeing him with Lily and James one time. Knowing that he had almost broken her, he made one final commented, "And since you so politely asked, this is my girlfriend of just over three years, Daphne Greengrass."

His words had their desired effect, as in the next moment, she fell to the ground with an audible 'thump!' in a dead faint, causing Sirius and Blaise to start laughing. Between their laughter and the noise of Petunia fainting, they soon heard the creaking of floorboards as an enormously obese man lumbered out of the kitchen towards them.

"Pet, who is it at the door? Is it The Freak already?" Daphne glowered at the disparaging term used for Harry, who held her arm gently to prevent her from hexing his Uncle's bits off.

The moment that the man appeared on the doorway, all nine of them withdrew their wands and pointed them at him. Vernon's hatred for all things magical evidently stemmed from his fear, judging by the way that he lost control of his bladder, before fainting.

"Your family is really weak willed," Blaise commented dryly, as Hannah daintily stepped over Vernon's body and into the hallway. The rest of the group did the same, though Daphne 'accidentally' stepped on the rotund man's groin as well.

"Your girlfriend scares me," Neville whispered to Harry.

"I think she scares everyone with the male genitalia," he whispered back.

"That doesn't explain why Draco's scared of her, though," Neville responded, intentionally talking loud enough so that Draco could hear him loud and clear. Harry snorted in amusement at his Slytherin friend's insulted look.

He was about to retort, when they heard a certain pig in a wig guffaw at whatever amusing scene he had recently seen on the telly.

Harry knew that the best way to get some measure of revenge would be to flaunt that which Dudley did not have. "Oi, Big D!" he exclaimed, modulating his voice so that it sounded like that of Piers Polkiss. If he had to be honest, he would say that it was a pretty good impression.

He heard the shaking steps from the living room that told him that his beached whale of a cousin was making his way to the hallway. "Piers, what's up? Did ya want to teach that Tommy kid a lesson-" He broke off as he saw, rather than Piers or any other members of his gang, a bunch of strangers his age in fashionable clothing and someone who seemed distantly familiar to him.

However, the biggest shock was that Harry was pressing a blonde girl to the wall and snogging her, his hand running along her sides under her shirt. And Dudley had to admit it; she probably had the best ... eyes ... that he had ever seen before.

Finally, after what seemed to be a few minutes, the girl and Harry broke away from each other. The raven haired wizard gave his cousin a confused look. "Oh, hey 'Big D', where did you come from?"

Harry noticed, with no small amount of revulsion, that his cousin was still ogling Daphne. After a few moments, in which Blaise snickered away merrily, Dudley seemed to come to. He smoothed back his hair in an attempt to look handsome, and reached out a hand to great Daphne.

"The name's Dudley; Dudley Dursley," he greeted. Daphne merely looked on in a condescending manner, before lifting her nose haughtily and looking away. Trying to remain suave and debonair, Dudley continued, "Look, how about you ditch the twerp and we can have some fun."

She looked back to Harry, whose hand she was still clutching. "I'm sorry, but I'm into guys," she said, as though letting him down easily, causing Blaise and Tracey to snicker. "One guy in particular," she added, motioning with her head to Harry, who was looking at her lovingly.

Dudley, oddly enough, seemed amazed, and perhaps even amused, as though he could not possibly imagine why she, or anyone else for that matter, would prefer his cousin over him. He leered at her, "Hmm ... I must say, I love a good chase."

Apparently over her brutal rejection, he looked over to Susan, Hannah, and Tracey. "And you three?"

Susan and Hannah did not even deign to look at him, but Tracey started cracking up, causing the boy's brow to furrow. "What's so funny?"

Between laughs and gasps for hair, she answered, "You ... you think that I ... that I would ever ... haha ... ever be even slightly interested in you!"

Trying not to look as despondent as he felt inside – really? Four rejections from four lovely ladies? – he turned to the vaguely familiar man. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"You may know of me," he answered with a smirk. "The name's Sirius; Sirius Black."

It took Dudley a few moments to recognize him as being the mass murderer that he had seen on the news several years before, but when he did, he finally noticed his unconscious parents, and joined them in a dead faint.

A few minutes later, the three Dursleys had been levitated back to the family room (Vernon and Dudley had both accidentally bumped against the walls), and Enervated by Sirius and Draco, who was already seventeen, as they were not sure whether or not Scrimgeour had removed the trace yet.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia – and please, don't faint this time."

Petunia and Dudley glared at Harry, while Vernon was moaning in pain whilst clutching at his groin.

"As I had been saying before," Harry continued, "These are my friends Daphne, Draco," Draco blinked, "Susan, Tracey, Neville, Hannah, and Blaise," the dark skinned boy nodded by way of greeting. "And this is my godfather, Sirius."

"Why are you here?" Petunia asked, evidently electing herself as the voice of her family. It was probably a good decision, as Dudley was still ogling Daphne as well as the other girls, and Vernon would have insulted them already.

"Well you see Aunt Petunia; I'm only here to give you a warning."

"Are you threatening us, Freak?" Vernon exploded, only to be pushed back into his seat violently by Neville.

"No," he replied, not even slightly unnerved. "I'm merely telling you three that I am not staying in this house for more than ten minutes. The wards won't stand for much longer – in fact, I believe that they don't hold up even now, considering that these eight were able to walk in with me so easily."

"So then what are we supposed to do?"

"Move," Harry answered, a response that served to further outrage his Uncle.

"How dare you presume that you can tell us what-" Vernon's ramblings were cut off by a Silencing Charm by Sirius, accompanied by a glare from all of the Magicals present.

"Lord Voldemort – the man who killed my parents – may very well try to hurt and kill you three because he thinks that you mean something to me," Harry explained.

"Then where should we go?" asked a clearly shaken Petunia; if they were dealing with Voldemort, then it would be best for her family to leave.

Harry raked a hand through his messy locks. "I dunno ... Australia, the United States … consider it an extended vacation. Hopefully, we'll have the bastard killed by the end of the year."

Petunia let out a long sigh, before looking to a blustering, purple faced Vernon. The vein in his forehead seemed about to pop, something that amused Blaise and Hannah to no ends, judging by the way that they were betting on how long until it blew.

"Vernon, dear, I think we should listen to Harry."

Freed from Sirius' Charm, he exclaimed, "What?! I will never run from this home like a coward, especially not from a freak like him!"

Harry coughed, a noise which sounded strangely like, "And yet when we got a bunch of letters," which caused him to purple even further, his jowls swelling as his fists clenched in rage.

"I think we should leave," Dudley said quietly. However, Vernon remained steadfastly against leaving.

Finally, Petunia stood up. "Dudley and I are going regardless. Please come with us, Vernon."

The massive man paled. "Pet? You're going to leave me?"

"I don't want to leave you, but I'm not risking Dudley just because of your inflated male ego."

Harry coughed again; Vernon's ego was not the only inflated part of his body. After a few moments in which he looked from his wife to his son and back again, he hung his head. "Fine, we will go to America. There's a Grunnings branch there where I can work until we return."

Petunia hugged her husband, thanking him for coming with them and thanking Harry for helping them.

As part of the Order of the Phoebe entered the enlarged Bentley (a sight that had caused Vernon to faint once again, much to everyone's amusement), Sirius asked, "Where to now?"

"Diagon Alley," Harry answered. "I need to go to Gringotts to get the Potter Manor property, and I also want to pop in to The Daily Prophet, maybe spend some time with Rita."

A bit over half an hour later, the group arrived outside of the Leaky Cauldron in London. Sirius parked nonchalantly, knowing that Muggles could not see the parking lot, while Wizards probably would not recognize the vehicles' worth.

The first stop that the nine made was to Gringotts. "May your gold flow, Griphook," Harry said, surprising the teller whom he had met in first year.

"And may the blood of your enemies spill," he returned. "How may I help you today?"

"I seek to speak to Gornuk, the Potter Vaults Manager, in regards to Potter Manor." Harry looked behind him, where Sirius paced around in circles in his Animagus form.

Griphook narrowed his eyes for a moment, before ringing a bell. "Gornuk shall be here momentarily."

After a few minutes, an elderly goblin appeared. "Lord Potter, follow me please," he said by means of greeting, before turning on his heel and walking into a chamber, followed by Harry, Padfoot, Daphne, and the other six teenagers. The goblin led them through an underground passageway for several minutes, deep into the bowels of Gringotts. He pressed his hand against a door, before entering the room, which turned out to be a bare office with a few chairs and a large, redwood desk.

"How may I be of assistance, Lord Potter?" Gornuk prompted.

"I would like to inquire about Potter Manor," Harry said politely. "First, could you please remove Peter Pettigrew's signature from the wards, and add my seven companions to them?" he asked.

Gornuk reached into a desk, and pulled out a file. He then pulled out a sheet of parchment, "You need only speak the words, 'I hereby remove Peter Pettigrew from accessing Potter Manor' to delete him. Your friends, on the other hand," he said, placing the parchment as well as blood red quill before him, without any ink.

Harry sighed at the sight, but repeated Gornuk's words, causing a warm light to envelop him, starting from his Potter ring. Though he did not know it, a flash of light did the same to Peter Pettigrew, who would then be tortured for several minutes despite the fact that two children were about to duel to the death.

Then, ignoring the pain in the back of his right hand, he wrote each name on the list, starting from under _Remus J. Lupin_, who he assumed was the last person that his father keyed into the wards. Each time he wrote a name, the same light enveloped him and the person whose name he entered, until everyone who was present had their name written.

"If I needed to add anyone else into the wards…" Harry trailed off.

"Then you would find an open book in the office along with a blood quill, and add whatever names you required. Would that be all, Lord Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Between the eight of us-"

Gornuk interrupted, "Nine."

"Excuse me?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"Do not take me for a fool, Lord Potter. I have dealt with the Lord Black enough times to detect his magical signature." Harry looked sheepish at that, as did Sirius once he transformed.

"Anyways, between the_ nine_ of us, how much of the Daily Prophet do we own?"

"A more than significant percentage," was the cryptic answer.

"And by that, you mean … ?"

"By that, I mean that if you wanted something done there, they would have no choice but to do as you wish, as the nine of you own nearly the entire business."

Harry nodded, "Thank you, Gornuk. And may your enemies fall before your blade."

"And may your blade be stained with the blood of your enemies."

* * *

Ron ran to Hermione's collapsed form. There was a thick, sticky red substance on her back; blood from Pucey's cheap shop. Luckily, the cut was not very deep.

A door opened, and Peter Pettigrew entered hurriedly. He bowed to the Dark Lord, kissing the hem of his robes.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked in his cold, high voice.

"M-milord," he stuttered, "I ch-checked the b-barracks for the new recruits."

"And?"

Wormtail gulped despite the fact that this had all been planned. Were he to mess up, he would surely be tortured into insanity. "Th-there is not enough room. There is one too many recruits."

Pettigrew sighed inwardly in relief; he had not screwed up! Suddenly, the barrier came back up, surrounding Hermione and Ron.

Hermione noticed first, "Milord? What's happening?"

The Dark Lord laughed cruelly, "Surely you heard Wormtail's announcement? Yes? Well, we only have one spot open, so we're going to have … tryouts."

The Dark Lord laughed harshly once again, a high, cold sound, as Hermione and Ron gasped in realization.

* * *

**A/N:** A bit earlier than I expected, but hopefully it's pretty good. We're up to 300 reviews, 700+ follows, and close to 500 favourites. Can we get it this chapter? Next chapter, I'll try to get in that reunion, sorry I couldn't fit it this chapter. As well as a bit of revenge, maybe?  
**Review** to let me know: Hermione, or Ron? Who will survive?  
I'm not even going to ask if you got the reference at the end, it was so obvious. However, it got me thinking. Check my profile to see my thoughts about Batman and Harry Potter. And while you're there, vote on my poll!

**Summary:** You may notice that I changed something in the summary. That's right: Blaise/Hannah is an official pairing! I've had time to think with school over now, and it's been decided.


	23. Chapter 23 - Book Smart

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Harry Potter franchise; all rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 23 – Book Smart

* * *

It was a strange sight, Harry mused, seeing Diagon Alley so empty. Normally, it was crowded to a limit, where Harry would almost be unable to walk through the masses, but due to the war with Voldemort, and that Hogwarts students did not have their books and materials lists yet, very few people roamed the Wizarding alley.

Aside from the eight of them and a certain mangy mutt, Harry could only see a couple of Wizards and Witches walking by.

The Daily Prophet had its headquarters in a small building in the shadow of Gringotts. The most recent edition was advertised on a rack of newspapers in front of the building, while the title 'The Daily Prophet' laid outlined on the front of the building.

The door opened without so much as a squeak as Harry opened it, holding it open as Padfoot, Daphne, and the rest of the Order of the Phoebe walked in, murmuring their thanks.

The building was organized into stalls, much like the various departments within the Ministry of Magic. A few heads turned to see the distraction, while most of the journalists kept their heads focussed on their parchments, the sound of quills scratching filling the room.

The group looked around quickly; Rita was nowhere in sight. However, Barnabas Cuffe, the senior editor of the Prophet, was sitting at a desk, reading over what was likely a potential article, tapping a quill against his teeth. The group walked towards Cuffe, only to be confronted by a journalist.

"No dogs allowed," the rather beefy man stated, crossing his arms over his chest in what was a failed attempt to appear menacing.

Draco raised an eyebrow haughtily, and took a step forward. "Look around," he said confidently. "This is the Lord Potter and Heir Black," he motioned to Harry, "as well as Heirs Longbottom, Bones, Malfoy, Greengrass, Davis, Zabini, and Abbot. We practically own this place. So if we want to bring a dog in with us, we will. And you can't do a damn thing about it."

Draco smirked as the journalist turned bodyguard paled, before rushing out of their way and sitting at his desk, toppling over a pile of parchments in his haste. The blonde haired Pureblood then strutted arrogantly towards Cuffe, an action that amused Blaise and Tracey to no end. Susan shook her head, but walked forward, joining her aristocratic lover.

The sounds of several feet against the smooth floor of his office alerted Barnabas Cuffe to the intruders. He looked up, expecting Rita Skeeter, who had finally returned from her inexplicable hiatus since June of 1994, only to see eight young adults and a shaggy dog that seemed eerily like a...

"Grim!" he exclaimed, falling off of his seat at the sight of Sirius' Animagus form. He sat back up hurriedly, his eyes darting between the teenagers and the omen of death. "Er ... How can I help you, my Lords and Ladies?" he asked, trying to save face after his humorous reaction to the dog's presence, realizing that the young adults before him held quite a bit of political sway.

Cool and collected as always, unlike Blaise and Hannah who had to disguise their snorts with coughs, Daphne replied, "We would like to arrange a meeting with Rita Skeeter in regards to some of her articles concerning us in the past."

Barnabas paled; while the Prophet was not known for the integrity of their journalists, Rita was by far the worst and most successful. In the Muggle world, almost of all her work would be considered tabloids, and she was the epitome of the stereotypical sleazy journalist.

"Very well," he said with a gulp and a tug of his collar, a nervous tick that Susan, Draco, and Daphne easily noticed. "I shall inform Miss Skeeter presently, and we will send an owl to you with arrangements for a possible meeting."

Content with the results of their visit, the eight young nobles and the dog left the Daily Prophet headquarters. Once outside, Tracey said, "I can't believe that cow still even has a job! She sure must do a lot of arse kissing!"

Daphne seemed intent to scold her for her language, but Blaise interrupted, much to Harry's amusement and Daphne's irritation. "Or she does something else with her mouth," he quipped, causing disgusted looks from the females except for Tracey, who chuckled appreciatively, and Daphne, who simply gave him a disdainful look.

Padfoot let out a bark as if to laugh, and Blaise added, "Oh come on, you knew that I had to say something like that. With a name like 'Skeeter', how could I not?"

Hannah rolled her eyes, and suddenly veered off to the left. Blaise's "Where are you going?" went unheard as Hannah, and then Susan, Tracey, and finally Daphne followed her as if they had lost their will.

Neville sighed in defeat as he realised that they were heading to Ivanna's, a clothes store that was more commercial and modern than Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. "I'm going to go with them, make sure that Tracey doesn't spend too much of my money."

Blaise nodded, "Me too, Hannah doesn't have much restraint." So saying, he joined Neville in their quest to prevent the girls from wasting all of their money.

Harry doubted that they would be complaining when the girls started trying on lingerie.

He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, and turned to Draco. "They were so young!" he bemoaned.

"Indeed. They were they few; the brave," Draco intoned.

"The marines," they said at once, before laughing heartily at their joke.

"See! I told you that watching Yank channels on the telly would pay off," Harry said gleefully.

"But at what cost, mate?" Draco shivered, the image of the show 'Charmed' passing through his mind. Changing the subject, he said, "Now what? We probably have four to five hours to fill."

Harry shrugged, and looked around for a moment, observing all that was Diagon Alley. If he could not find anywhere to go, he and Draco may have to follow the girls. Harry shuddered at the thought; not even watching Daphne trying on lingerie would make up for that.

He was about to suggest 'Quality Quidditch Supplies' when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a jeweller enter his shop, a careless flick of his wand removing the 'Sorry, we're closed' sign. "I need to make a trip there."

Draco swung his head around, following Harry's extended arm. "The jewellers! What could you possibly need to get there? Unless ... No! Harry you can't do it! You're too young!" Harry gave him an amused look for his dramatics, before slapping him upside the head.

"You're making a fool out of yourself, Scion Malfoy," he mocked, instantly quieting Draco. After all, it would not befit of a Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy to be seen in public in such a manner.

Sirius whined slightly – clearly bemoaning the fate of his godson – but followed the best friends anyways, waiting outside of the shop for them. Without the political sway that they held in the Daily Prophet, he doubted that they would get away with his presence this time.

The owners of the shop were an elderly couple, though the wife was not in sight. The husband was a kindly looking fellow, with greying hair and rough, calloused hands from whatever careers he may have ventured into in the past, or perhaps he also worked as a smith for some of the items. He walked towards the young men standing awkwardly near the store's front, fiddling their thumbs. "How can I help you?"

"Well, Mr ..." the raven haired Lord trailed off.

"Grisham," he responded eagerly. "Toby Grisham."

"We were wondering what kind of rings you had..."

* * *

Harry and Draco groaned. They had contented themselves to sit around on a bench nearby Ivanna's, where they had played Exploding Snap for a while. Then, they had done the first six inches of their Defence Against the Dark Arts summer essays. After that, they debated the pros and cons of various brooms, as well as which Quidditch team was superior, and how their broom types factored into the equation.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the sunset, Neville and Blaise walked out of the shop, lugging a massive bag each. Harry and Draco gave them disbelieving looks as the four girls walked behind them, hands empty. "Why didn't you just shrink the bags?" Draco asked them.

Blaise moaned, "We _did _shrink the bags. Then we put them into these."

Harry's brows furrowed, "And why did you not shrink the larger bags?"

This time, Neville groaned, "I don't know, mate. We were about to, but Daphne started talking about Gamp's sixth law, and how you can't shrink objects that have already been – what?" he cut himself off at Harry's smirk.

"First off, Gamp only had five laws. And secondly, why wouldn't you use Feather Light Charms?"

Blaise gaped and palmed his face, while Neville glared at Daphne, who just smiled back and walked over to a chuckling Harry.

"Where to next?" Tracey questioned.

Susan answered, "We'll be Apparating into Padfoot's home, and then from there, taking the Floo to Potter Manor." At this answer, Tracey massaged Neville's hand lightly, trying to alleviate any stress that he may have from the impending meeting. A moment later, eight pops (Harry's a moment later as he had to grasp the scruff of Snuffles' neck) sounded in Diagon Alley, taking the tired (especially Blaise and Neville) teens to the Ancient abode of the Black family.

Sirius transformed quickly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of fleas. Considering the form that he had previously taken, that would not be too much of an exaggeration. He pulled Harry into a short hug, and ruffled his hair in an irritating manner.

"Before you all go to Potter Manor," he said, "Perhaps you should all make a visit to Buckbeak." Blaise and Tracey snickered at the memory of Nott being attacked by the hippogriff, and the group walked up the stairs, understanding what the Lord Black meant.

They ascended in near silence, the stairs creaking. "Are you ready for this, Neville?" Draco asked, one hand on the doorknob. At Neville's nod, he twisted the handle and pulled...

Only for the door to remain closed. Draco frowned and, growling, attempted to pull the door open once again. He cast "Alohamora!" and tried once again, to no avail. Finally, chuckling at his friends attempts to open the door – or perhaps lighten the mood – Blaise brushed past him, and pushed.

This time, the door opened, causing Blaise to state, "You were supposed to push, not pull, you moron." Draco glared back at his dark skinned friend, before stepping past him and into the room.

Buckbeak, as always, was a majestic creature. His feathers preened as the new Order stared at him in awe, although the attention was drawn away from him by a noise from a raven, which swooped down from a beam on the ceiling. The bird circled a few times, until it paused close to the ground, and suddenly became a woman.

Unlike with Sirius, who had a tendency to show off with his transformations, such as causing a veil of smoke to appear, her change was abrupt, alike to Professor McGonagall's.

The woman had long, dark, curly hair, and eyes that held an odd, violet hue to them. They were heavily lidded, and had deep bags underneath, evidence of her stay in Azkaban. The prison's hospitality was also seen in her malnourished body which, while once beautiful, was as thin as Sirius' had once been, shortly after his own escape.

Her eyes darted around the room nervously, until Draco took a step forward cautiously, then another. "Aunt-Aunt Bella?" he stuttered. Abruptly, she stepped forward, and pulled her blonde haired nephew into a hug.

"I haven't held you since you were but a babe," she whispered. "And even then, Rudolphus sought to limit the amount of time I could spend with you." To the shock of all present, tears began to leak from her eyes, which she wiped away hurriedly, letting go of the tearful Draco.

Harry, the only other person who had a direct blood relation with Bella, walked forward next. Bella clutched at her chest, and sat in a chair that was a few feet from her, needing to take staggering steps to get there. "My apologies," she breathed. "For a moment, I thought you were James."

Harry smiled gently, "Should I call you Aunt Bella, too?" Bella smiled warmly in return, another tear falling down her cheek. Rather than responding with words, she pushed off of her chair and swept her raven haired second cousin into another hug, just as tight as her embrace with Draco.

After they pulled away, Bella introduced herself to the rest of the new Order, whispering a few words into Susan and Daphne's ears, until only one was left.

She stood in front of Neville hesitantly, until she walked forward, as if to embrace him. However, he did not respond to her hug, but rather, twisted out of her arms so that he stood behind her, and pointed his wand into her neck. "Swear," he said furiously.

"Swear what?" Bella asked tentatively as everyone, Neville noticed, except for Harry, pointed their wands at them.

"On your life and magic. Swear that you had no control over yourself when you ... when you tortured my parents," Neville choked out.

Bella nodded in understanding, and pointed her wand at her chest. "I, Bella Black, hereby swear, on my life and on my magic, that I did not take part in your parents' tortures, and anything that I did do to harm them was out of my control, so mote it be." A light flashed in the room, and when it faded after a moment Bella said, "Lumos!" A small ball of light appeared at the end of her wand, signifying her honesty.

Neville looked sheepish, "Sorry about that."

Bella smiled warmly, "It's no problem, Neville. I likely would have done the same."

"We should probably give them some time to talk," Harry said quietly to Daphne, who nodded. The rest of the group left with them, with Tracey smiling sadly at Neville before finally leaving.

Daphne pulled Harry aside, "Why didn't you pull your wand on Neville?"

"I would have done the same," he answered honestly. "If Tom came up to me, and told me that he was not in control of his actions when he killed my parents, I would need solid proof to believe him." Daphne nodded her understanding; she had not thought about it that way, and the couple quickly rejoined the rest of the group, who had been waiting patiently for them.

The group trudged back down the stairs. The house was empty save for Sirius, who greeted them. They quickly informed him of what had happened, and Harry said, "Sirius, are you familiar with Horcruxes?"

Immediately, Sirius paled. "I think I remember reading about them in the Black library once, when I was younger. Why? Those things are foul, Harry, and-"

"Sirius, I don't plan on creating one," Harry assuaged. "However, Tom did create one. Actually, he made quite a few. We thought that your brother, Regulus, might have found one."

Sirius rubbed his face wearily, "What makes you think that?" He paled as his godson showed him the locket and the letter within, before summoning Kreacher.

"Kreacher, did Master Regulus have a locket that he tried to destroy?" The House Elf immediately started moaning about how he had failed his Master. "Do you know where it is?"

Kreacher nodded fervently. "Yes, yes! The nasty thief, Fletcher, stole it during one of the Order meetings!" Sirius gripped the edge of a table tightly, his clenched hands turning white.

"Can you find him and get it?" At his nod, Sirius continued, "How quickly?"

"If Kreacher can get the nasty thief's magical signature, immediately!"

Sirius nodded, "It should be all over some of the more valuable silverware." Kreacher scurried off, and Harry told his godfather not to destroy it yet, and explained the Horcrux within his scar, as well as the ritual. Sirius was visibly shaken, so Harry tried to leave quickly. Between this news and the news that Regulus had turned against the Dark Lord, he was going to need a stiff drink.

"One more thing, Sirius," Harry said. "What was up with Kreacher? He's usually a lot ... worse."

Sirius chuckled, "Probably Andy, Bella, and Cissy's presence over the past weeks, as well as the absence of any 'Mudbloods and blood traitors'," he said.

Harry nodded, and Daphne added, "We'll see you soon, Sirius. Let us know when you get the Horcrux, alright?" Sirius agreed, so the Order of the Phoebe walked back up the stairs, where they found Neville and Bella talking quietly.

Neville, whose back was towards the door, turned around when he heard footsteps and voices approaching. "You guys are done?" he asked, to which Tracey affirmed. Bella hugged each of the teenagers in turn, until once again, only Neville remained.

This time, he did not avoid the hug, nor did he draw his wand on her; rather, he embraced her back. Tracey wiped a tear from her eye, a tear of joy that her lover was being reconciled with someone that he had once hated.

The eight teens then walked back down the stairs once again (Blaise complained that he was tired from all the stair climbing), and Harry stood in front of the Floo. Just before he called out, "Potter Manor!" he heard a _pop_ coming from the kitchen, no doubt Kreacher arriving with news for Sirius.

* * *

Ron simply stood there, gaping. After all these years, plotting behind Potter's back, and faking relationships with Lavender Brown and Viktor Krum – this was how it would end? All because a Dark Lord told him and Hermione to duel to the death?

He looked to Hermione; she was sitting up only a few feet away from him. He could see the warring factions within her: the part that loved him, and the part that always did as authority told her. And in this case, the authority was the Dark Lord Voldemort.

He could distantly hear his mother pleading with the Dark Lord, and his blood boiled with anger as his mother was struck down with a Cruciatus Curse from an unknown Death Eater. At that point, Ron pledged to find that Death Eater, and kill him. Painfully. Even if it meant that he had to kill Hermione to avenge his mother's pain.

A look at Hermione showed that she had come to a similar decision. With her, it was about her inability to reject an authority figure. However, he knew that if he did not do as his new Master wished, then they would both be killed regardless. His mother would probably be executed as well.

Hermione slowly rose to her feet. Ron took a moment to assess her from her previous fights. She was still trembling slightly from her exposure to the Cruciatus, and she was favouring her left leg from one of her falls. He doubted that she was in any state to dodge spells, between the leg and her back from Pucey's Cutting Curse.

Ron was about to send the first spell, when Hermione shouted, "Bombarda!" He withdrew his wand as quickly as he could, and cast a hurried shield, but Hermione's spell broke through it, sending him several feet backwards. He rose to his feet shakily, only to fall back as she hit him with a Banishing Charm.

Though Ron did not know this, the very Death Eater that had tortured his mother had a pale complexion, greasy hair, a hooked nose, and onyx eyes. Severus Snape looked on with indifference, not particularly caring which of his former students died and which survived.

Once, he would have hoped that Granger survived. Once, he had thought that she resembled his lost love, Lily Evans. However, Lily would never have manipulated or betrayed anyone like that. Well, she had manipulated James Potter to an extent, but that had been more of a threat that if he did not stop bothering Severus, he would lose his chance with her. It was nothing near the scale of befriending someone, planning to steal all of their money, and then sacrifice him like the scapegoat that the Wizarding World had made Potter.

He looked on, amusedly, as the Mudblood dodged a Cutting Curse, before Banishing Prewitt into the electrical force field. However, in a surprising twist of events, the barrier was no longer up, causing the red haired boy to land in front of Alecto Carrow, who sneered and kicked him in the chest. The foul woman appeared ready to torture the boy for having the gall to land near her, but the Dark Lord raised a hand to stop her.

All of the Death Eaters present were quiet as though a Silencing Charm had placed on their collective whole as they stared towards their Master. What was he doing now?

"Now, now, Alecto," he chided. "I found myself becoming bored with this little duel, so I decided to give them free reign in the Manor. And don't worry, Theodore," he said, noticing the protesting look on the injured Nott Sr.'s face. "I have placed charms on the walls; nothing shall be damaged irreparably."

As a result of this declaration, Hermione had lost her upper hand, and Christine Nott, the Lady of the house, got the shock of her life as she nearly flew into her after a surprisingly strong Banishing Charm from Ron caught her in the chest.

She took a ragged breath and coughed out blood. Ron paused for a moment, but as she shakily stood up, he shot a "Lacero!" at her left leg. She jumped over it, but landed on the injured leg, falling once again. "Reducto!" he cried, the force of the spell breaking through her paltry shield easily. Luckily, it had slowed down the spell enough so that when it hit her chest, it sent her flying into a wall, rather than exploding her chest cavity.

Hermione looked around frantically as Ron slowly advanced. Out of options, she shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" Ron's summoned pillar of marble exploded on contact, and he Banished the shards back at her. However, she had already turned the corner of the hallway.

Ron ran after her, clutching at his left shoulder. He was not sure, but he thought it might be dislocated. At the end of the hall, he stopped, and turned left with his wand out and a curse on his lips. The former love of his life was limping further down the corridor, and he almost laughed at her destination. Instead, he silently cast, "Lacero!"

The Cutter hit her left ankle, causing her to fall once again. She cried out in pain, but still sent a "Sectumsempra!" at him. Not expecting it, a large gash appeared in his injured shoulder, making him grasp it tenderly. He looked up to see her limping towards her destination, and she shoved the door open.

Ron slowly walked to the library, wincing as he stumbled, jarring his shoulder painfully. He pushed the door open gently, and looked around. He was reminded of the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries; there were columns upon columns of tall, cherry wood shelves filled with books, which he guessed belonged to the Nott family.

As an afterthought, he Disillusioned himself, and Silenced his footsteps, and started threading his way between the tall columns filled with tomes. However, as he stepped into the sunlight, his shadow revealed him. Evidently he had been close to Hermione, because she sent a Stunner at him, which he ducked.

With a flurry of words and wand movements, he shouted, "Homenum revelio!" revealing her figure. Knowing that in an all out battle Hermione would outclass him and dispatch of him easily, he shouted the first thing he could think of: "Manducare limaxi!" When he had been twelve, he had used a version of the spell, which was simply, "Eat slugs!" However, the Latin version was much more powerful, as proven by Hermione's response.

She had doubled over onto her knees, and was vomiting slugs out with no reprieve. Unable to even hold her wand anymore, it clattered to the ground. Ron kicked it away, and removed his camouflaging spells, before casting "Finite incantatem!" This spell not only removed her Disillusions, but also the slug-vomiting spell. In order to prevent her attacking him Muggle-style, he quickly said, "Petrificus totalus!"

She was still bent over, with one hand propping herself off the ground, the other holding her chest. He Vanished the slugs that were feebly crawling around her hand, and stared appreciatively at her rear and legs for what was likely the last time. He cast a quick Freshening Charm on her teeth, and kissed her sweetly.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione," he said sorrowfully, pointing his wand at her head. "Avada Kedavra!"

There was no green light. For a moment, Ron thought that he had done something wrong, until he realized that the Killing Curse required true intent to kill. He pushed the collar of her blouse away, giving him one final sight of her perfect breasts, and put his wand against them, trailing a line down the valley between them, ready to use the Piercing Curse, when he realized that he could not.

He could never kill his love.

As soon as he freed her from her binds, she threw herself at him. However, if he thought that she would kiss him passionately ... he was wrong.

Instead, she started clawing at his face. He grabbed her hands and pushed them away from her face, only to crumple to the ground as she introduced her knee to his groin.

He grasped his family jewels as she ran away, diving for her wand, before standing up and pointing it at him. "Avada-"

She was broken off by Ron's sudden "Reducto!" The spell went well over her head, so she discarded it, and was about to start the incantation again when she heard the crash. She turned around, only for a huge, cherry wood bookcase to fall on her, snapping her spine almost immediately.

Ron let out a shaky sigh as he cast a Numbing Charm on his crotch, and turned around, to see quite an audience.

Standing at the front, and clapping slowly, was the Dark Lord Voldemort.

* * *

**A/N**: I finally got a part-time job for a couple of weeks, but I will continue to update as frequently as possible.  
**Molly**: Just as a warning, in canon, she kills Bellatrix Lestrange, as a housewife. In this, she is a housewife being trained by Voldemort. Don't expect her to die particularly easily.  
**Skeeter**: Any thoughts on what The Order of the Phoebe will do to her?  
Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favourited this, you guys cracked 500! Please review to let me know how you thought this was!


	24. Chapter 24 - Headmaster

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter universe; all rights go to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 24 – Headmaster

* * *

Draco looked around the room as he stumbled out of the fireplace. It reminded him of Malfoy Manor in a way, in that the Potters clearly never tried to hide their wealth, but the way that it seemed hospitable and not too arrogant resembled Longbottom Estate.

Sitting down on a comfortable couch, he waited for a few moments as the others arrived, gazing disdainfully at a few cobwebs in the corners. "Dobby!" Harry called, causing the excitable former Nott House Elf to appear. "Could you bring Potter Manor back to its previous state?"

"Of course, Master Harry is the greatest!" he squealed, and began polishing off the nearest object. After Blaise clawed him off of his now shiny head, he continued to scrub away at a nearby table. The dark skinned Slytherin glared at Tracey and Draco, both of whom were chuckling at the Elf's enthusiastic display.

"So, Harry," Hannah said, drawing Draco's attention away from Blaise. "Should we explore your new house?" Harry nodded eagerly, and soon, the Order of the Phoebe was walking around though the twisting corridors of the mansion.

"I should ask Sirius and Remus if they can help me charm a parchment to map out the Manor," Harry thought aloud, stroking the stubble on his chin gently.

"Like the Marauders' Map?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah, I can't see any reason not to, and it would definitely help us finding our way," he answered, before raising his fist triumphantly as they re-emerged into the living room. It had not taken much for the group to get lost, but their roundabout journey allowed for them to find several bedrooms, although only four of them would be occupied. There was also a room that reminded Harry of a War Room of sorts, in which he could strategize with the rest of the New Order.

The War Room – as Daphne had taken to calling it – was clearly based off of the premise of King Arthur's Camelot, as it was primarily a round table, with a massive map of the British Isles in the centre. Harry figured that many centuries ago, a Potter with a particularly ironic sense of humour had decided on the round table as an homage to their ancestor, Morgana LeFay.

Finally, there was a kitchen, which Dobby quickly shooed then out of, a sizeable dining room featuring a table the size of the Hogwarts staff table in the Great Hall, several bathrooms, and the basement.

Harry and Draco particularly enjoyed the basement. While nowhere near a professional duelling arena, it was a large, open space. Harry was sure that, with a few well placed pillows and Cushioning Charms, they would be able to train in the basement with no problems.

Of course, having a large cellar stocked full of vintage wines didn't hurt, either.

Draco collapsed on a comfortable couch, pulling Susan into his lap. After a few moments of silence, Tracey said, "Are we sort of like your version of the Inner Circle, Harry?"

Harry frowned at that, "I suppose so, except you guys never need to bow to me or anything like that. We're all friends here, whereas the Inner Circle is made up of Tom's subordinates."

"Oh, really?" Blaise asked, smirking. Draco quickly made several motions to him, including swiping his hand across his throat, but Blaise continued. "Then why is it that Daphne spends so much of her time with you on her knees?"

Draco winced sympathetically as Daphne's Stinging Hex hit Blaise directly in his coin purse, an analogy that he considered quite apt considering the apparent pain to his ... Knuts.

"I warned you in the Express, Zabini," Daphne growled. "I don't miss my target twice."

Draco shot a look at Harry, trying to convey to his best friend how tragic it was that he had fallen in love with such a frightening woman. Judging by the way that Harry gave a rather explicit hand gesture in response, he did not get the message.

"Speaking of the train, and promises, and ... pain," Draco whispered to Susan, who had a teasing glint to her eyes.

"I'm sure I don't quite know what you mean, Draco," she said sweetly.

"Well, it's after ten now," he commented, casting a quick Tempus Charm. Indeed, it was a quarter past ten in the evening. Between the Express, Diagon Alley, and Grimmauld Place, it had been a very long day. He gave a fake yawn, "We really should be getting to bed soon."

His red-haired goddess giggled, "I think I'd like to stay up a bit longer though."

Draco smirked, "That can be arranged." Susan frowned at him in confusion, only for him to scoop her up and begin running up the stairs, followed by Blaise's whistles.

"Don't forget to use protection!" he called. Judging by his squeal of pain, Daphne's aim was right on the mark.

Draco shook his head at his mate's foolishness. "He doesn't learn, does he?"

"No," he answered apathetically. "His mind is far too dirty to ever stop making sexual innuendos like that. Although, he will stop, at least around Daphne, if he ever wants to have kids."

Susan giggled at the truth in his statement, before demanding, "Put me down!" He chuckled at her petulance, but let go of her gently, setting her on her feet. "I'm not porcelain, you know? I won't break!"

"Fine," he said as he opened the door to their room. He took a moment to appraise his new room, complete with both of their trunks (thank Merlin for House Elves!) and a large bed.

He picked Susan up, carrying her honeymoon style, and said, "You asked for it!" before plopping her onto the bed unceremoniously.

She bounced off of the bed right onto her feet, as if she had planned it all. "So what was it that you wanted me to kiss better?" she asked, drawing a line down his chest teasingly.

"Everything," he answered, before capturing her lips with his. He ran his hands up and down her sides as she grabbed a fist of his perfectly gelled hair, before deciding to clutch her upper back and perfectly shaped rear. Her legs, those beautiful, well-toned legs, encircled his back, pulling his body even closer to hers in a sensual dance that would make even the most practiced tango dancer blush.

Susan moaned loudly into his mouth as his tongue prodded into her mouth, causing them to hear someone from downstairs shout, "Haven't you ever heard of a Silencing Charm?"

Judging by the lack of a painful squeal, it was Harry or Neville who had said that. Either that, or Blaise had ran. Regardless, Draco cast a Silencing Charm on the room, before tossing his wand onto his trunk, and went back to his girlfriend.

He would end up being very thankful for whoever it was that had suggested the Silencer, even if it was Blaise. It was much appreciated.

* * *

She let out a noisy yawn as she woke up, knowing that her lover was already awake, as always. She stretched like a cat, arching her back against his chest. 'Coincidentally', his right hand had found itself between her breast and the mattress, his other hand gently rubbing against the flat of her stomach.

She wiggled her hips against his teasingly, before flipping around, causing the bed sheets to fall into disarray, and his hand to now be squished by her other breast - not that he would complain, she knew.

She looked into his bright green eyes, and kissed him tenderly, giving a light tug on his lip as his hands came to rest on her hips, pulling her form even closer to his. "Good morning," she murmured, burying her head into his neck to avoid the sunlight that peered into their room.

She could feel him shake with suppressed laughter at her actions. She pulled her head away from his neck to glare sternly at him, "It's not funny."

That complaint made him lose it, as he gave out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Sure it isn't, Daph. Sure it isn't."

She pulled herself away from him, still clad in nothing, and stood up. She began to walk to the loo to take a shower, but stopped and turned around. Harry, who had just stood up, stared at her. "What?"

In response, she walked forward, and placed her hands flat against his chest, before pushing him back onto the bed, and continuing on her walk to her shower, adding a tantalizing sway to her hips as she walked. Apparently realizing that he was not invited into her shower, he called, "Daphne wait! Oh come on! I'm sorry for laughing at you!"

She simply continued walking until she opened the door to their personal loo. Stepping into the shower that could easily fit several people, she turned on the hot water, enjoying the feel of it cascading down her shoulders as she considered the past few days.

They had only spent one day resting and acting like normal teens – in other words, snogging. After that, they had quickly started a training regimen. More accurately, it was Sirius and Bella making sure that they were in shape before they started to teach them more advanced forms of magic.

Once all eight had been considered fit to fight, they would be taught Dark and Grey magic by Sirius, Bella, Amelia, and Lucius, while Augusta and Narcissa would help them with their lessons in the Wizarding World.

While that may not have seemed important at first glance, they were quickly proven otherwise when the Ladies Malfoy and Longbottom embarrassed them using magic that could only be found in a family Grimoire.

After that humiliating event, the New Order of the Phoebe had decided to take everything regarding their families seriously. The only advantage of it all that Daphne could discern was that it deflated Blaise's ego to be taken down by his mother with a simple modification of the Stunning Spell that was unable to be magically shielded from, much like the Unforgivables.

Sirius had promised that they would soon be in good enough shape to begin their advanced training. Thank Merlin for that, her and Harry had been barely able to enjoy their carnal urges due to the physical exhaustion. She hoped that their strategic and magical training would be less demanding, though she would cooperate so long as it paid off.

Finishing her shower, she grabbed the towel that Dobby placed for her, and wrapped it around her torso. After a strange vision of Dobby peering into the shower as she washed, and wondering if there were any perverted House Elves that peeked into the loo while their owners relieved themselves, she stepped out, drying herself off with a flick of her wand.

Feeling slightly violated at the thought of that actually happening to her, she dressed casually in short athletic shorts and a tank top, assuming that they would be going through their exercises as usual. She then quickly put her long blonde hair into a ponytail, before walking down the stairs to the dining room, where they ate all meals. Dobby had taken it as a serious affront to himself when they had tried to eat there the first morning back, and had made it his personal mission to prevent them from ever entering the kitchen.

Harry was sitting in a high backed chair, scooping porridge out of a bowl while hissing at Blaise; Hannah was staring at the two with a small amount of fright, and the other four had yet to wake. Or, more likely, they had awoken, and were otherwise engaged.

It took Daphne a moment to realize why Blaise and Harry were hissing at each other, but then she remembered that Blaise had the potential to be a snake, a reticulated python to be exact, and thus, had the gift of Parseltongue; the ability to speak the language of snakes.

It amused her how quickly Blaise quieted as he noticed her: perhaps the damage to his bits had resulted in him fearing her. At least, fearing her more than he did already; after all, she had received her 'Ice Queen' nickname due to a combination of her cold personality, and an event in her third year. A sixth year Snake had made advances on her, and she had practically frozen his bits off.

After that, Harry was the only one to make advances on her, except for a few idiots, who had quickly learned their lessons.

In a way, she was not too surprised that most males were frightened of her. If anything, she was proud of it.

"Anything new in the Prophet?" she asked as a bowl of porridge appeared in front of her.

Hannah looked down at the newspaper, "Nope." She knew, automatically, that Daphne was asking if there was any news on the plans or actions of one Lord Voldemort, of which there was none.

"Any idea what those two Stooges are hissing about?"

Hannah gave her a disbelieving look, "Do I look like I know Parseltongue?"

The Greengrass heiress blushed, "No, but I thought that you may have been present when their conversation started."

Hannah took a sip of her tea and nodded her understanding, "If you must know, Harry started talking snake-language the moment he got here, without any sort of English introduction."

"Could he have been talking about whatever conversation you and Blaise had been having?"

Hannah stood up and gave a twirl, revealing similar athletic short shorts; "I doubt it, seeing as Blaise was mentioning how these shorts and all of our exercise combined have made my arse look great."

Daphne looked suspiciously at Harry, hoping that he was not commenting on Hannah's rear, which even she had to admit, was the best that she had ever seen before.

And Daphne prided herself on her arse.

Instead of mentioning her insecurities – after all, Harry and Blaise could have been comparing whose arse was better; Hannah or Daphne's – she swatted Hannah's backside gently.

The Hufflepuff let out a girly "Eep!" before sitting back down. Daphne noticed that something had changed in the kitchen; it took a few moments to realize that Harry and Blaise's hissing had stopped.

She looked towards the two boys, who were gazing back at them blankly. "Is it just me, or was that really hot?" Harry asked. Daphne gave him a Stinging Hex to his shoulder for his troubles.

"Hey!" Blaise complained. "If I had done that, you'd have hexed my bits off! That is so-" he cut himself off at Daphne's glare. Or perhaps he saw her wand under the table pointed at his groin. He hissed back at Harry, and even if Daphne could not understand his words, the message was clear: "So hot."

"Men," she sighed at the same time as Hannah, causing both blondes to giggle. Just as Daphne was about to hex Blaise where the sun did not shine for his obvious comment about the apparently erotic nature of her action, Hannah grabbed her wrist.

"Oh come on Daphne," she pleaded. "Spare him this once. Besides," she breathed, leaning in so that her breath tickled against Daphne's neck, "You've got to admit: we'd be pretty hot together."

Just as Daphne was about to reply, a tapping at the window sounded, alerting her to a tawny owl, much like the type that carried the Daily Prophet. A flick of her wand opened the window, and she kept it open for an extra moment as a second owl flew in, carrying a square package in between its talons. The second owl dropped the package in front of him and left immediately, while the first waited for Harry to unwrap a letter and give it an owl treat.

A lazy flick of Harry's wand opened the letter, and he levitated it in front of him as he read it. "Really, Harry?" she asked, incredulous. "Would it be too much of an effort to actually hold the letter?"

Harry ignored her, and let the parchment drop to the table in front of her as he finished reading it.

"It's from the Prophet. Skeeter," he glared as Blaise snickered, "has agreed to meet with us today at three o'clock, at the Prophet headquarters."

"What's the package?" Hannah asked, staring at the cubed shape.

Harry cast a few diagnostic spells, and frowned in confusion. "Whatever's in there isn't cursed, but it is."

"That clears it up," Blaise muttered, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Harry glared at him, "The object in there isn't cursed to do harm to anyone, but it seems that some sort of Dark curse was used on it." He fingered the box, and noticed elegant green script.

"What does it say?" Daphne asked impatiently. Harry frowned, before paling slightly as he read the words, and pushed the box so that she could see it.

_Dear Harry,_

_We decided to give you an early birthday present, as we will be unable to attend your party. We sincerely hope that you enjoy it as much as we did. _

_Wishing you well in your studies,_

_Ronald Prewitt_

_Molly Prewitt_

_Lord Voldemort_

Daphne paled, wondering what those fiends could have sent her love. Of course, she also wondered why the Granger bitch had not signed it as well. Her silent question was answered when Harry opened the box, revealing long bushy brown hair framing the head of 'the Granger bitch.'

"Well then," Blaise said quietly. "I guess we can assume that they used a Dark Cutting Curse to behead her?"

"Probably," Hannah affirmed. "You seem awfully indifferent to this, Harry." Indeed, Harry was simply eating his porridge, taking an occasional sip of tea.

"Of course. I didn't particularly expect Tom to let a Muggleborn into his ranks, so I have been waiting for this. If anything, I thought I would have got this a while ago. Odds are, Tom passed her around to his Death Eaters. But yes, I can't make myself feel bad over this, because she made her own bed. Considering that she had spent the last six years robbing me … speaking of, do any of you have any idea how Kreacher's search is going?"

"Yes," Daphne answered, unfazed by his change of topic. "He traced it back to the Toad – apparently, Fletcher had raided Grimmauld Place while they were off on a rescue mission, and he sold the locket to Umbridge to avoid being arrested."

Blaise spat on the table, which Dobby immediately cleaned. Ever since the House Elf had tried to polish his head, he had tried to make Dobby's life miserable. "Fletcher's nickname is rather accurate, isn't it? Dung."

Harry, Daphne and Hannah all nodded their agreement.

* * *

His body ached as he woke, his entire room dark. In fact, the entire castle was dark, with the only lighting coming from infrequent torches placed in brackets along the stone walls of Nott Manor.

He tried to move, but his arms were still chained to the head of the bed over his head, and his back and chest were covered with dried blood. He was able to see the whip that had done the damage to him a few feet away on the ground, half covered by white lace knickers.

The final and most obvious reason that he was unable to move was the body that covered him, the body of one Alecto Carrow. She was a sadistic bitch, Ron decided. Ever since he had landed before her during his fight with Hermi... the Mudblood, he corrected himself, she had taken an interest in him. She had pleaded with their Lord to have him as her new toy, a plea that had made him shiver.

It was not the domination in the bedroom that bothered him, at least, not much. The Mudblood had always wanted to be in control, and had been rather kinky at times, so he was used to chains, and even whips. However, when Alecto took out a knife...

A part of him new how bad this was. She was easily the craziest woman in the world. However, the other part recognized that her arse and breasts were substantially better than Hermione's and some of the best he had ever seen, though they did not light a candle to the slags at Hogwarts, such as Greengrass, Bones, and Brown.

He tried to move again, only for her to elbow him in the gut, apparently angry over being woken up. "How dare you wake me up!" she growled at him, getting off of him and retrieving her wand. "Crucio!"

He cried out in pain, and blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue from his exposure to the Cruciatus. After a minute, she released the painful hold of him, "What do you have to say for yourself"

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Crucio!" she shouted again, this time holding it for a minute and a half. "You're sorry, _what_?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he cried in pain. Satisfied, she unlocked his chains, and healed his wrists, back, and chest, as she had the day previous, as well as the day before that. After that, they showered together, as always. She elbowed him in the gut when he accidentally brushed against her chest, as always, and then again when he didn't, as always.

Trying his best to ignore her sounds of pleasure, he washed himself, and found himself thinking of Her once again.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, checking all of the O.W.L and N.E.W.T examination marks before they would be sent off around Magical Britain. An alarm in her office sounded a moment before a knock came at the door. "Enter, Severus," she commanded.

The greasy haired Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor entered, and fell into a seat. "Whiskey?" he asked, pulling a bottle out of his robe. She shook her head, and he took a swig from it, muttering, "Suit yourself."

"What brings you here today, Severus?"

The sallow faced Professor sighed, "I am here to recommend that you step down from your place as Headmistress of this establishment." As she glared at him, he added, "I, Severus Snape, hereby swear on my life and on my Magic that I am firmly entrenched on the side of the Light and against the Dark Lord, so mote it be."

As Magic accepted his oath, Minerva stared sternly at him, "And why, pray tell, should I step down?"

"Because the Dark Lord wishes for me to become the Headmaster, and to install Amycus and Alecto Carrow as Defence and Muggle Studies Professors. I told him that I would persuade you to step down – to spare Magical blood, as I told him – and he agreed. If you do not step down, then he will likely arrange for your death."

Minerva paled, "But the children-"

"That is why I asked to spare you. You, as well as Filius, Pomona, and the other teachers will have to take care of them."

Minerva nodded, before giving a panicked look, "Why would we need a new Muggle Studies class? What happened to Charity?" she asked, referring to the current Professor, Charity Burbage.

Severus looked away sadly, causing her to wipe a few tears away from her eyes with a Summoned handkerchief. "Will you be implementing any other changes?"

"Yes," he answered bitterly. "Mr. Potter and Ms. Bones will lose their Head Boy and Girl duties, to be given to Ronald Prewitt and Lilith Moon."

"I did not know Ms. Moon supported the Pureblood agenda?" she asked, aghast that yet another young pupil had turned to the Dark.

Severus shrugged, "Unlike _some _students, there are a few Slytherins that are cunning enough to hide their true opinions." She snorted at his thinly veiled reference to not only Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson, but also Davis, Greengrass, Zabini, and Malfoy.

Minerva sighed, but took out a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment to resign from Headmistress. She stopped as soon as she put her quill to the paper, and took out a rat from her desk. Severus raised an eyebrow as she transfigured it into a goblet, and pushed it towards him.

"On second thought," she said with a small smile, "Maybe I will have that whiskey."

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry for the long wait, it took a long time for me to get the inspiration to start writing this. Hopefully, there won't be as long of a wait for the next chapter. The Ron/Alecto dom/sub crack!ship was too funny not to use.

**New Title**: I'm thinking of changing the title to 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoebe' or 'The New Order.' Because let's be honest, 50 Shades of Blue is one of the worst titles in Fanfiction.

**And remember**: More reviews make for a confident author; a confident author makes for more frequent, lengthier chapters. Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 25 - Training

**Disclaimer**: If, after twenty five chapters, you have yet to realize that I do not own Harry Potter, then, as my father is fond of telling me: there's help for people like you.

Chapter 25 – Training

* * *

"My slippery friend, I was wondering if you would return or not," a cold voice said.

"My Lord, you know that I will always return to you," he answered, kneeling before the Dark Lord Voldemort.

"Indeed," the Dark Lord sneered. "And what news might you have in regards to Potter and his little friends?"

The Death Eater took in a deep breath, knowing that revealing any bad news would result in a very unsavoury reaction towards him.

"My Lord, Potter has enlisted the help of the Blood Traitor Weasleys save Percy, the French Veela from the TriWizard Tournament and her family, and Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet to report accurately for them. The Lady Zabini and her daughter could be converted to our side; however, her loyalties lie with her son, and his with Potter. My wife and son are proving more difficult to turn than I had hoped, as both have bonded with Potter and the rest of the Black family."

His Lord gave a thoughtful look. "Indeed? Would you be able to tell me where Potter's home is?"

He swallowed heavily, hoping that this news would not anger his Lord. "No, my Lord, it is under the Fidelius." At Voldemort's disappointed glare, he added, "However, my Lord, I could conceal a tracking device and lead a regiment of those loyal to you - Death Eaters, giants, werewolves, vampires, Dementors, and the like. Or, perhaps, I could kidnap the Greengrass heiress, and use her against Potter."

The Dark Lord observed his shadowed follower, and steepled his fingers under his chin. It almost resembled the deceased Albus Dumbledore's frequent action – not that he would ever tell his Master that.

"Very well, my most loyal of servants. We shall have to plan everything out well, if we make any mistakes, your position will be revealed. Until then, return to your station. I will call for you once I have the details finalized."

"Of course, my Lord." Recognizing a dismissal, he began to leave, only for his Lord to hold him back.

"On second thought, at what time does their training usually end?"

"Around four thirty, my Lord. Might I inquire as to your plans?"

"Of course, my loyal servant. We will attack the heart of Wizarding Britain at four, and I wish for you to be present. I trust that you will be there, but refrain from being caught? I doubt that they would be so likely to accept your 'Imperius excuse' a second time."

"Of course, my Lord." Certain that this was a true dismissal, he hurried to his feet and left, sparing a sneer at Severus Snape, who was likely there to give the Dark Lord a new report on the Original Order, or perhaps the goings on at Hogwarts.

As he wove his way through Nott Manor, approaching the limits to the wards that surrounded the property, he mulled over the disappointment that was his son, as well as his failures to turn his son's friend, Harry Potter, to the Dark side.

When, at the end of his son's second year, the boy had come to him and told him that he had befriended Harry Potter, of all people, he had been understandably skeptical. That had changed when Draco, his son, had invited his former rival to their home for part of the summer, and Harry had accepted.

Their friendship had been decidedly odd, as their families were from completely different extremes of the Magical spectrum. He had been very surprised that they had become friends at all, and he felt himself partly to blame. If he had had a firmer hand in Draco's upbringing, instead of allowing Narcissa free reign, perhaps his heir would have shared his Lord's opinion on Mudbloods and such filth; unfortunately, hindsight oft showed him errors that he could not fix. Thus, his son was much more willing to befriend a half blood from a Light family than he should have been.

Naturally, having someone with as much political clout as the Boy-Who-Lived and heir to the Potter estate as guest, Lucius had attempted to ingratiate himself with the boy, and had even tried to change his views on topics regarding blood purity and types of Magic.

That too had backfired; though the young Potter had begun to practise shadier types of Magic, his attempts to make the boy see that his friends, the Mudblood and the blood traitor, were the wrong sort to befriend fell on deaf ears. Indeed, that only served to estrange the boy from him, although he was glad that he had convinced him that he had been under the Imperius.

Had Potter been more sensible – or perhaps thought about it more recently – he would surely have wondered why an adult Wizard would so freely tell a stranger such private information. Nonetheless, he had believed Lucius' lies of being forced into participation of Death Eater raids.

While it was easy to portray a false front towards Potter and even Draco, it became complicated when Narcissa became suspicious. His wife had never quite believed his tales of being under the Imperius, even though he took great care to hide his cloak and mask from her. By Merlin, he had even obtained the Dark Lord's permission to not be Marked, so that Narcissa and the government never had any proof of his wilful involvement.

Unfortunately, between Narcissa's involvement in Draco's upbringing and his friendship with Harry, Draco had changed. While he was not about to go around hugging Muggles, he also was not as viciously against them as he had originally been.

Lucius Malfoy turned on his heel as he left the wards, appearing back in front of Malfoy Manor, the cultivated lawns and peacocks greeting him. Though he hoped that he would not have to kill his son in the dead of the night, he also knew that if his Lord requested the death of either his son or his wife, he would do so.

After all, sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.

* * *

"Congratulations," Sirius said, observing the eight teens that lay on the wooden floor panting, drenched in their own sweat. By some strange coincidence, Hannah had managed to fall directly on top of Blaise, at which Harry rolled his eyes.

Sirius was simply smirking at them, hands behind his back. Continuing his congratulatory speech, he said, "You have officially become fit enough, in my opinion, to start learning advanced Magic, as well as duelling techniques."

They were in an abandoned warehouse in Birmingham; at least, that was what it looked like from the outside. Within, it had been expanded into a massive training ground, complete with a running track, a weight room, and a large, empty space with mattresses covering the ground, clearly meant for when they started to use actual magic.

As tired as they were, neither Harry nor the rest of his 'Inner Circle' heard a door behind them opening. They did, however, hear a clunking noise like wood against wood approaching them, but they had no time to react as four jets of red light came at them from each side; their front and back. Harry was unable to avoid it, and the next thing he knew was darkness.

Harry rubbed his eye wearily as he came to. It took him a moment to remember where he was: he had just been attacked in their warehouse/training grounds. "What happened?" he groaned; his eyes roamed around to see that his friends were in a similar state, though they all seemed healthy and in one piece.

"You got knocked out," Sirius answered, crouching in front of them. "In a real life situation, you'd all be dead right about now. Anyone want to guess what you did wrong?"

Harry saw Daphne's eyes flit around, until they paused on a figure half shrouded in darkness. Her eyes narrowed as the figure stepped into the light, his wooden leg dragging against the ground. "We weren't vigilant," she offered, still staring at the man, whom only she and Harry had noticed.

Sirius nodded as the man stopped behind Draco, before he shouted, "Constant vigilance!" Draco whirled around, emitting a rather feminine squeal as he came face to face with the scarred, distorted visage of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.

"Hold on a second," Blaise complained. "You guys surprised us. How were we supposed to know that there would be two of you?"

He got a Stinging Hex to his chest for his troubles, as Moody glared at him. "Foolish boy! You think that your enemies would give you a heads up before they attacked? Do you? Do you think they would rattle off their numbers and positions to you? Of course not! This is war, and in war, you have to constantly be vigilant!"

Blaise had to bite back the urge to remark that Moody's 'constant vigilance' had done him a lot of good when Barty Crouch Jr. had attacked him.

"What are you doing here, Professor Moody?" Neville asked politely but tiredly.

"I don't reckon I was ever much of a Professor for you; just call me Alastor, or Mad-Eye. That's what most call me, anyways," he said, giving a surprisingly genuine smile to him. "And to answer your question: I'm here to train you."

That was all of the warning he had before Moody fired off another Stunner; this time, Tracey shielded it even as Neville sent a Full-Body Binding Jinx in response, which the wizened Auror merely batted away.

"Do I have a sign on me that says: 'Warning: fragile' on it?" he asked rhetorically. "Sending something a little stronger than 'Petrificus Totalus' at me, will you?"  
Neville's response was a Bludgeoning Hex at Moody's torso, which was shielded easily, before Moody Stunned Tracey, whose shield had been only covering Neville. A moment later, Neville was bound by a simple Incarcerous, leaving Moody to dance away from the Bone-Breaker that had been heading his way.

Sirius stared at the other six teenagers with a bemused look. "What are you all doing? Get off your arses!" With that, Sirius and Alastor spent the next ten minutes toying with the Order of the Phoebe, before they dispatched the tired students.

"That was, quite simply, pathetic," Sirius said after Enervating the last teen, who happened to be Harry. "We will continue pitting the eight of you against the two of us every day until you can defeat us. Then, we will increase our forces to make it eight against four."

Harry groaned, trying not to flush in embarrassment after that rather humbling defeat. "Who will you be adding first?"

Sirius shrugged. "Whoever we think of first, I guess. Probably Bella and Amy Bones, though."

Susan shuddered at the thought of combat with her Aunty, while Harry replied, "I thought you would have tried to avoid Amelia for a while."

The fugitive Lord Black winced, "I figure it's sort of like Muggles with Band-Aids: if I get rid of the problem quickly and confront it, it may be slightly less painful on my part. Now then," he changed the subject, Summoning a table for them to sit at. "Anyone want to point out their mistakes?"

Draco slammed his head into the table. "We were god-awful as a team, especially considering all of our teamwork exercises in the Room of Requirement."

Sirius nodded, though he said nothing. Neville assumed that this meant that he was expecting more answers, so he offered, "We barely moved. Instead of dodging some of the spells, we remained stationary, so it was just a matter of time until our shields buckled."

When Sirius still remained silent, Hannah added, "We were seriously under-employing our spells. While you two were using just about everything short of Dark Magic, we stayed with Jinxes and moderate Hexes and Curses."

Sirius finally spoke up, "Correct, to all of you. The teamwork was okay, but instead of only shielding oneself, you should have had two on each side to defend while the others attack, and you could easily have switched that up. Also, without dodging, you had to rely frequently on your shields, which limited your chances to go on the offensive. Finally, as Moody said: do we look like we'll break if you hit us with something too hard? If we were Death Eaters, would you have Stunned us? Of course not, because they could easily rejoin the battlefield if their allies Enervated them."

Sirius rubbed his hands together eagerly, and continued, "Now off to strategies!" Tracey's groan went unheard, as the dog animagus went on, "There are a lot of different types of duellers. There are those like Minnie McGonagall, or for a more contemporary example, Remus or Andi, who Transfigure objects. This could be used to defend against a spell or a surprise offensive manoeuvre. The drawback of this is that you could end up wasting energy Transfiguring a piece of rubble into a lion while the enemy has fired off several spells.

"Then there is the Charms Master, like Filius Flitwick, or Narcissa: they'll use the environment to their advantage. This can mean anything, from Animating rubble to attack their foes to making vines restrain them. The only problem is that you have to constantly fuel your Charmed object with Magic, or it will simply stop.

"There are those that like to use both methods: Charms and Transfiguration. The best example of this would be Albus, though as you saw today, Mad-Eye does so as well. They could Transfigure something into, let's say, a toy soldier, and Animate it to attack. The disadvantage is that it requires a lot of power to keep the Magic going as well as the actual Transfiguration, so many don't bother trying it.

"A less common but still effective type is the Pranksters - at least, that's what I call them. They're the people who range from Fred, George and me, who like to use funny spells for surprising effects, to Pettigrew and Prewitt, who don't have enough power to pull off the other types. These guys like to use spells such as the Slug Expeller or Tickler to distract their opponents. When they are down, they finish it off quickly. My personal favourite is the Stubber, a spell that I created. It's based off the Stunner, but it causes the victim to have serious pain in the big toe of their favoured foot. I can show it to you guys, sometime. The drawback is, obviously, that they're generally weak spells. If you know how to Counter them, then they can be dispatched of easily.

"Personally, I prefer to use a combination of Pranking Spells and Charms, because they tend to have similar motions." Alastor cleared his throat as he began to veer off of topic.

"Indeed, my friend, you are correct!" Sirius cried, before stealing Harry's wristwatch and Transfiguring it into a goblet; he then filled it with an Aguamenti. "Sorry, I was really thirsty," he apologized, returning the watch to his glaring godson after drinking it in one swig.

"Anyways, where were we? Oh, right: the final type is Bella or Voldemort. They go all out with power, using everything in their arsenal. These are generally the toughest to fight, because they'll just decimate your shields with raw power before taking you out. Does anybody want to venture a guess as to the drawback of this?"

Susan answered tentatively, "I reckon that if they're really powerful, they might get a bit confident in their abilities."

"That's correct, missy," Mad-Eye grunted. "A lot of fully grown Wizards would have guessed that it would be the drain on their Magic – however, a lot of these have more than enough Magic to spare. Hopefully, by the end of the summer, you will know what category you belong to. There are others, of course, that are less common, and then there are those like Tonks, who use everything. She's pretty adaptable; basically just going with the flow."

As Sirius went to dismiss them early as it was clear that they were too exhausted to learn any more, the door swung open once again, though this time, everyone heard it. They turned around to see Severus Snape walking towards them quickly. "What is it, Snivellus?" Sirius mocked.

"There is an attack on Diagon Alley, you flea bitten mongrel," Snape spat out, onyx eyes glaring at Sirius'.

As the New Order moved to get up, Sirius held up a hand. "Where do you think you're going? The Alley is dangerous, and-"

"Exactly, Sirius: it's dangerous, and the Weasley twins are down there. The Old Order is in shambles, and Aurors are always slow to report. We can't leave this to the mindless sheep that makes up so much of our population!" Harry argued.

Sirius grimaced, but could not find any fault in that argument. Harry stood up slowly, the rest of the New Order following suit. "I guess I'll see you on the other side, Sirius," he said to his godfather, who clasped his hand and pulled him into a manly hug.

"Still never actually fighting, Snivellus?" he snarled at Snape, who had stayed behind as Moody and the Order of the Phoebe left.

"One could say the same to you, Black," the greasy haired Potions Master retorted.

"I'm a bloody fugitive!" Sirius defended. "If I go out there, I'm facing a war on two fronts: on one side, your Death Eating friends aren't my biggest fans, and on the other side, the Aurors will kill me the moment they see me!"

"And the moment I step into the fray next to Potter, my 'Death Eating friends', as you so crudely say it, will know which way my loyalties lie, and the Order's best spy is gone."

"Don't worry, Snivellus, no one will cry over your death. Besides, the Order is in shambles."

"Please Black; don't act like I'm stupid. I know that you and those eight are forming your own little organization. You might be surprised by how much information I could provide you with."

"Such as?"

"That battle going on at Diagon Alley? It hadn't started when I got here. I gave them a chance to limit the casualties; hopefully the Dark Lord will assume that they were just there on coincidence."

Sirius paused at that efficiency. "Why are you here, Snape?"

Snape sat down heavily at the table. "I don't think Potter or his friends should come to Hogwarts this year."

His old Hogwarts nemesis stared at him with a shocked expression. "Excuse me?"

"Unless your time in Azkaban has affected your hearing, you heard me correctly: I recommend that Potter and his friends do not attend Hogwarts this year," he repeated, smirking at his counterpart's fish out of water look.

"And what, pray tell Snivellus, makes you think that that is an even somewhat plausible course of action?"

Severus glared at the bane of his existence. "Oh, I don't know ... maybe the fact that I am the school's Headmaster now?"  
Sirius reverted back to his previous expression. "W-what? What happened to Minnie?"

"Nothing," Severus said simply. "The Dark Lord wished to make Hogwarts his: I told Minerva that and that he would dispose of her to make me Headmaster. Oddly enough, she quickly resigned, going back to her station as Transfiguration Professor."

"Why are you telling me this Sniv-Severus?"

"Because, while I may not like your godson, neither do I wish for my own godson to have to deal with the 'tender mercies' of our new Defence and Muggles Studies Professors: Alecto and Amycus Carrow."

Sirius presented him with a gob smacked expression. "Those two fiends? Working at Hogwarts?"

"Indeed," Severus nodded. "Now do you understand why they should stay away from Hogwarts this year? Perhaps train further until they stand a chance against the Dark Lord?"

Sirius nodded unhappily, hating to have to agree with his long-time nemesis. "I will talk to Harry and the others, to gauge their reactions. Hopefully, they will see reason."

Standing up, Severus walked to the door, but paused before leaving. "By the way, apologize to Potter and Ms. Bones for me, will you?"

The request took Sirius aback – why would Snape, whose goal in life seemed to make Harry's own miserable, want to apologize to him? "What for?"

"The Dark Lord wished for me to change the Head Boy and Girl to two of his own: Lily Moon and Ron Prewitt." Severus chuckled inwardly at the gaping expression on Sirius' face, and muttered, "Mangy mutt," before closing the door behind him.

* * *

The Order of the Phoebe's Inner Circle jogged to the edge of the wards. They each pulled hooded cloaks on, with a Full Moon on the back, under which a broom hovered – an homage to Luna and Katie. They also withdrew their wands, before Apparating to Diagon Alley, prepared for battle.

Thus, they were quite surprised when they were greeted by a fairly busy – considering that a war was going on – Alley. "What's going on?" Neville asked, pulling Tracey into a shadow.

The others quickly joined them, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. "Sev's outdone himself this time," Draco whispered, pointing at the corner of Knockturn Alley, where they could see somewhere between a dozen and a score of cloaked figures standing. "He gave us enough of a heads up that they haven't even attacked yet."

Harry stared at the Wizards and, presumably, Witches for a moment. "They must be waiting for some sort of a signal," he muttered. Looking around quickly, he noticed Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes only a few shops away. After casting a Disillusionment spell on himself, he hurried to the store, the other seven and Moody following his shadow.

"Fred, George!" he said after weaving around shelves full of odd merchandise.

The twins looked around, searching for the voice. "Who is it?" one asked.

"Your silent partner," Harry whispered back. "There will likely be an attack on the Alley within a few minutes. Can you get these people out of here, or to a safe place?"

The twin who had spoken nodded, "Of course. Old Snakeface had already been back when we started this up, so we have cellars sort of like the one in Honeyduke's, which leads into Muggle London close to the Leaky Cauldron."

Without waiting for a response, the other twin raised a wand to his throat, which the New Order took as a sign to get out to avoid the stampede. "Sonorus. People of Magical Britain! An anonymous tip has been given that there may be an attack on the Alley. Please stay calm, and follow my almost-as-good-looking-as-me twin brother."

Naturally, the Magicals within the building immediately started acting like chickens with their heads cut off. Somehow, Gred and Forge managed to herd them into their cellar, just as an explosion racked Diagon Alley.

The New Order quickly dropped their disillusioning charms, and stepped out of the store, Mad-Eye brandishing his wand.

Harry and Draco both stopped dead in their tracks for different reasons – Harry, because one of the twenty or so Death Eaters milling around, causing confusion and killing innocents had a silver hand.

"Pettigrew's mine," he quickly snarled at the group. "If engaged, try not to kill him, as he is the key to Sirius' freedom."

Draco, on the other hand was staring, slack-jawed, at a Death Eater whose platinum blonde hair was remarkably familiar.

"Dad?"

* * *

**A/N: **A bit of a filler chapter, but the next will have more action. Please review to let me know what you thought, or if you have any suggestions (unless the suggestion is ridiculous, like for Harry to have a harem with Daphne, Hannah's French twin, Gabrielle Delacour, and a resurrected Luna or something like that).

**Betrayal: **I bet no one saw Lucius' betrayal coming ... I certainly didn't! It just sort of happened.

**Next Chapter: **Stay tuned for the Battle of Diagon Alley! And possibly an amusing scene, but I thought of it at one in the morning, so it may not be too funny. Actually, how about whoever has my favourite review for this chapter in the next 24 hours (since I generally don't start a new chapter for a day) will get a PM from me pitching the idea, and they can help me decide whether or not to use it. Just as a bit of motivation to review.


	26. Chapter 26 - Heads Up!

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Harry Potter, the pairings would have been somewhat different, Hermione would have been killed instead of petrified, and Lockhart would have Obliviated Ron so much that he would forget how to breathe, and die. You don't even want to know what I would have done to Ginny. In other words, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise.

_Note: Please read the entire chapter. There is a part with an asterisk where you may suddenly get the urge to close this window, but I plead that you read the chapter in it's entirety before hastily leaving. Thank you, and remember that not everything is as it seems._

Chapter 26 – Heads Up!

* * *

Some people would call Amycus Carrow a cruel, heartless bastard. Others would say that he was ambitious and powerful, a good combination when in the presence of the Dark Lord. Still others, mainly Mudbloods and Muggle filth, called him Master, as he had trained them to.

He considered himself to be the Right Hand of the most powerful Dark Lord to ever step foot on the British Isles; whose might was stronger than that of Gellert Grindelwald, Herpo the Foul, Ælric Slytherin, and the like.

He also considered himself to be the type of person who knew what he wanted and he could get it, and subsequently, got whatever he wanted. He had just finished using one of his Muggle pets to relieve himself when he received the news that the Dark Lord wanted him, alongside Lucius Malfoy, to lead a raid on Diagon Alley. The Dark Lord had planned it so that the Aurors would have already expended a bulk of their resources to defend St. Mungo's against a comparably smaller raid. He was well aware that whoever performed more admirably, himself or Lucius, would likely become the Dark Lord's favoured one; His true Right Hand.

They were given a task force of two dozen, from practiced veterans such as Antonín Dolohov and Theodore Nott Sr., both of whom were Inner Circle members, to rookies, such as Ronald Prewitt and Marietta Edgecombe. The mission was not particularly complicated: an 'in and out' excursion, as he liked to call them, to Diagon Alley, where they would wreak havoc, kill anyone who gets in their way, and then Disapparate away before the Aurors could react.

Normally, they had between five and seven minutes before the law enforcement officers appeared, but because of the distraction they had planned at St. Mungo's, the Dark Lord had estimated that they would have up to fifteen minutes, with twelve minutes being the minimum. The coordination of the double attack was because Amycus and Lucius also had personal missions to carry out; he did not know what Lucius had been tasked with, but he was to capture one Garrick Ollivander.

His Lord had, apparently, been experiencing difficulties with His wand, and it's less-than perfect performance against Potter after the TriWizard Tournament had Him wishing to consult the wand-maker.

Amycus knew that the other task force that would raid the Muggle London area near St. Mungo's Hospital would be lead primarily by Albert Runcorn and his sister, Alecto. St. Mungo's was not chosen randomly, of course; the Dark Lord knew that it was one of the best locations that was sure to attract the attention of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and, through them, the Aurors.

Much like his own task, Alecto and Runcorn also had additional tasks: assassinations. Gilderoy Lockhart was a mystery to him, though he did not doubt his Lord's commands. If He felt that Lockhart's postulating for a decade after His demise was a direct insult to Him, then surely He was right. The other targets made more sense to him, however.

After all, what better way was there to strike at Potter than to permanently kill the parents of his friend?

* * *

It was strange, Harry thought: strange how the Death Eaters had immediately started duelling the Order of the Phoebe in groups of two or, in some instances, three against one. It was also strange how one of the Death Eaters had branched off and was approaching Ollivanders; strange how there seemed to be a shadow moving towards Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes.

Playing on a hunch, Harry wasted a moment from his duel with two of Voldemort's faithful to send a Blasting Hex just in front of the shadow. He was proved correct as the shadow suddenly disappeared, and a blonde haired Death Eater appeared against a wall a few feet away, no longer Disillusioned.

Unfortunately, Harry's moment of distraction cost him, as one of his enemies grasped at the chance to send a Cutting Curse at him, slicing open his left leg. He was barely able to stay upright, but a quick Sectumsempra took care of the enemy, cuts appearing on his neck, face, torso and legs.

The other Death Eater Blasted him several feet away, crashing through the window of Madam Malkin's. Harry groaned as he felt shards of glass sticking into his back and arms, but he brushed himself off, trying not to focus on the pain. The Death Eater that had caught him off guard had joined his comrades against Daphne, and he growled, hardly noticing that his nails had elongated and sharpened.

However, he did and, focussing on the muscular and skeletal structures of the hand of a panther, the skin of his left hand bubbled as dark fur coated his hand and part of his forearm, his free hand completely morphing into the front left paw of his shadow panther form.

Over the past weeks, Sirius had drilled them in the first steps of their animagus transformations. Their first objective was to completely memorize their alternate form's body structure, so that they could transform fluently.

Then, they had to start transforming small parts of themselves. He felt bad for Blaise, who would eventually need to learn to rid himself of all of his appendages in order to become a serpent. The Zabini Heir – in mid-August, he would become the Lord Zabini – had started off small, and was now frequently seen with fangs or a forked tongue, a development that seemed to please Hannah.

It was a good thing that his body was impervious to his own poison, as he had accidentally reformed his teeth before getting rid of the poison sac, causing it to burst inside of his mouth, and Harry was not sure whether or not he had a bezoar at Potter Manor.

Irregardless, Harry and Daphne, as well as the tiger duo of Neville and Tracey, focussed on changing their extremities first, which was a fairly simple task once they got used to it. However, Draco and Susan began their canine transformations by altering their heads, which was one of the most difficult parts because of the difference in skull shapes between canines and humans. Rounding out the octet, Hannah had started to morph her entire arms into wings, knowing that they had similar structures.

So far, their partial transformations had been slow and painful, but as Harry's hand completely its change to a feline paw, he marvelled at how quick it had been this time. Perhaps he could start changing his entire arms, or his feet next.

He was drawn out of his musings as he heard a scream, and jumped to his feet, his feline nature enhancing his flexibility. He turned to stare out the now empty window, as all of the glass had been knocked off by his fall. His eyes narrowed and turned a threatening yellow – not that he knew – as he took in the sight of that bastard Prewitt, a vaguely familiar Death Eater, and the Death Eater that had taken him out Disarmed Daphne.

His lips curled as he bared his teeth, incisors sharpening and lengthening with barely a thought, before he jumped into the fray, Summoning his previous foe towards him nonverbally. Rather than using his wand to stop the body flying towards him, he merely help up his left paw, allowing the Wizard to be impaled on his paw, his claws extending into the man's ribcage and raking into his heart and lungs, killing him quickly as a spurt of blood left his mouth.

The ginger haired fool went slack jawed; after a moment, Harry realized that it could have been from his actions or from Daphne's heel digging into his groin before she wrenched her wand from his hand, and sent him flying through the air with a Banishing Charm.

The other servant of Lord Voldemort was quickly Stunned and Bound, before being sent into Fred and George's shop. Not because Harry was unwilling to kill him, but because he and Daphne knew that they could milk valuable information out of him with a copious use of Veritaserum.

After that, they turned their attention to Prewitt, but the cowardly bastard was gone, probably Apparated away already. Instead, they split once again, Harry's hand and facial features back to normal. Daphne went to help Hannah, quickly dispatching another enemy, while he added his own forces to Draco's.

The fact that it allowed him to attack Pettigrew was a complete coincidence.

He was just about to Stun his parents' betrayer when he noticed, with his peripheral vision, the same blonde haired Death Eater that he had Blasted into a wall appear behind Daphne, a curse on his lips and a green light at the end of his wand. Not given any time to think, Harry whipped his wand away from Wormtail, and thought, "Diffindo!"

Daphne whirled around as she saw the jet of light approaching her and ducked. It continued on and it became clear to her that the spell was not meant for her; however, her duck also allowed for her to miss the Killing Curse that was just barely sent off at her before the Death Eater that sent it at her lost his head. Literally.

Blood sprayed the ground around her feet as the crimson liquid gushed out of his neck like water out of a geyser as his head fell to the ground next to him. Harry barely even noticed the flurry of emotions crossing Draco's face: sadness, anger, and ... relief?

Harry noticed, rather suddenly, that he had just killed Lucius Malfoy. _Fuck_. He also noticed a green jet of light approaching him but, unable to avoid it, merely let it hit him. Oddly enough, it did not affect him at all.

He spared a curious glance at Wormtail, who he realized was responsible for the failed murder attempt. He almost laughed as he remembered the Life Debt that Peter owed him, but instead elected to taunt him. "Ah, performance issues," he mused. "You know Wormtail; one out of every ten Wizards has such difficulties – though it does not surprise me that you are that one."

Harry did not wait for the embarrassed former Marauder to respond, as he simply Stunned him, knowing that the rat in front of him was the key to Sirius' freedom, but also that to bind him would likely accomplish nothing due to his Magically enhanced silver hand.

Just then, Ollivander's shop burst open, as a Death Eater ran out, holding the wand crafter over his shoulder. "Let's get out of here!" he commanded, as it had been fourteen minutes since the raid had begun.

With only about seven Death Eaters remaining, all of them disappeared with the pop of Apparition. However, one decided to stay for a moment to send one final Curse: the Killing Curse, at Susan. With a jolt, Harry realized that it was Prewitt who sent the Curse, but could do nothing as Susan tried to duck, but it was for nought, as a red haired girl fell to the ground, dead. *

* * *

Ginevra did not live a happy existence. Nothing was as it was supposed to be: she had been disowned from both sides of her family, the Boy-Who-Lived loved her no longer, and her O.W.L marks arrived that day. They were decent – some would even say they were good – but her marks were soured by the fact that she was unable to tell her mother or brother, both of whom would be very proud. At the very least, her mother would be proud; her brother would likely be jealous and throw a fit.

Instead, she was staying with Denis and Colin Creevey in their Muggle home with their Muggle parents in their Muggle neighbourhood in Liverpool, where there was not a single Magical object. For some odd reason, the brothers were unwilling to let her simply stay at their home and eat their food; no, she had to pay her rent.

Hypothetically, she had to pay rent; in reality, it was like what she had heard her older brothers (former brothers, she reminded herself roughly) talking about. Colin would come into her room when she would coincidentally be dressed in a nightgown or lingerie, and sternly tell her that she had yet to pay her rent. Moments later, Denis would appear, telling her that her hydro bill – whatever that was – had yet to be paid as well.

It was disgusting, letting those two vermin run their hands over her body, but she was able to believe that it was Harry touching her, kissing her, and making love to her. Unfortunately, her delusions were so realistic in her mind, having fantasized over Harry doing such things to her over the year, that she often lost control of herself, and the foolish boys thought that they were responsible for her climaxes.

As if.

However, she also knew that running away would only be detrimental to her, as she, a Pureblood, should never be disgraced and forced to live on the streets. She was unable to fathom the fact that she had basically made herself a prostitute, or that it would be difficult to disgrace herself or her lineage any further.

Finally, she managed to trick the boys into bringing her to a shopping mall. She already had it all planned out, so it was not difficult to bring them into a store alone, their parents trusting them to stay safe. From there, it was almost ridiculously simple to try on a scandalous swimsuit which caused the perverted, incestuous duo to faint, allowing her to leave and, taking their wallets, take the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron.

What she had not expected, however, was for a fight to break out in the middle of Diagon Alley between Death Eaters and a group of cloaked figures. Letting her survival instincts take over, she jumped away from the fray, hiding behind an overturned table at Florean Fortescue's.

The owner of the ice cream parlour himself was also hiding there, and was about to push her away when she sat down on the middle aged man's lap, unbuttoning her blouse a few times so that he could have a nice look down her cleavage. It did a satisfactory job, as his arguments suddenly died on his tongue.

After around a quarter of an hour, she finally heard what she presumed to be the end of the battle: a masculine voice calling out, "Let's get out of here!" She stood up quickly, displeasing Fortescue somewhat, and looked around. There was a figure a few feet in front of her with long red hair, and a little way from her was someone that she recognized easily.

Ron pointed his wand at the red haired woman in front of her and, distracted by Florean's hand wandering between her legs, never saw the Killing Curse that hit her, nor would she ever get to marry the Boy-Who-Lived, as her mother had always promised her.

Because she was dead before she even hit the ground.

* * *

Neville hurried to Moody's side with a limp. The grizzled veteran was down on the ground after having taken a Bone-Breaking Curse to the femur of his good leg. A simple Gouging Hex had then dug into the incapacitated man's chest, causing his lungs to fill with fluids.

Neville grasped his wrist tightly and pressed a piece of cloth against his chest trying to stop the wound from weeping blood. "You're not gonna die, Mad-Eye," he whispered fervently.

"Do me a favour, will you, lad?" Moody said, spitting blood onto the cobblestone. "Take those bastards down, will you?" His coarse hand rubbed against Neville's own, which had developed some calluses from his time in the Greenhouses.

"Of course I will, Mad-Eye," he responded. "But you're not gonna die." Moody chuckled weakly at his order. Neville looked around, wondering why no one had come to help him, but saw Draco shoving Harry. Turning back to Moody, who had stopped breathing, he closed the war veteran's eyelids softly for the last time. "Goodbye, Professor," he muttered, and then walked over to the commotion.

Draco was seething at Harry. "You killed my Father!" he cried, trying to punch him, but Harry ducked.

Harry was not as angry, but was evidently upset. "And if I hadn't, he would have killed Daphne. Whether or not he was under the Imperius, I couldn't let him kill her!"

"You didn't have to kill him, though! You could have Stunned him, or-"

"And then what? One of the Death Eaters would have Enervated him, and he could have killed you or Susan next."

Draco paused at that, letting Harry continue. "Besides, regardless of whether or not he was with him of his own volition, Malfoy Manor could be compromised."

"So?" Draco began, before paling drastically. "Oh, shite! Mum!" Not waiting for anyone to say anything else, he Apparated away.

"I'll go with him," Susan offered, before a popping sound indicated her own Apparition.

"Alright," Neville said, trying to gain some semblance of order. "We should ID the Death Eaters we've caught or killed, and see if any civilians we harmed. We lost Mad-Eye, though," he choked out. He then started rummaging around the pockets of nearby Death Eaters and removing their masks to identify them.

"Holy shite!" he muttered in awe. Harry walked over to him, so he asked, "What the fuck happened to him?" He pointed at Mulciber, who looked to have had his entire chest cavity clawed out by some sort of predator.

"Er..." Harry said, running his hands through his hair with a sheepish look. "I sort of Summoned him onto my paw." Neville glanced at him in confusion, and Harry morphed his hand back into a paw, causing him to whistle in appreciation.

"I didn't know you could change your hand that fast," he said kindly.

Harry smirked, "Neither did I. I was just pretty pissed when I saw three of them corner Daphne."

Hannah and Blaise walked over to them, as did Daphne and Tracey. They quickly ascertained that Mulciber was the highest ranking deceased Death Eater, though they were unsure about Lucius' station.

"Any civilians?" Neville asked Tracey, who smirked. She then floated a body over to them, which was revealed to be Ginevra No-Name.

"Even in death she's a slut," Harry mused, noticing her unbuttoned blouse.

"I can't say I'm overly torn up about her," Daphne commented. "She was the only civilian casualty we've found so far."

"The bitch was killed by Prewitt, too," Blaise snorted in amusement.

They then checked their prisoners with Fred and George, who had joined them. "Hey, Gred, Forge," Harry called, drawing their attention as he unmasked one of the Death Eaters. "Bring Angelina and Alicia over tomorrow; I'm pretty sure this bastard is Dolohov." He kicked the unconscious man in the head for good measure.

"I'm surprised Aurors haven't shown up yet," Hannah stated as she grabbed hold of one of their new prisoner's arm before Apparating away. The other did the same, leaving Neville to take Moody with him.

When they finished putting their prisoners in the improvised dungeons in the basement of Potter Manor (Harry accidentally bumped Pettigrew into a corner once or twice … or eight times) and set Moody's body on fire, knowing that he would want to be sent off as the warrior that he was, Draco and Susan appeared out of the Floo with Narcissa and a trunk of what they revealed to be some of their most important family heirlooms.

"What happened?" Hannah asked, steering the unsteady Lady Malfoy into a chair.

Susan replied, "We got there just before a few Death Eaters appeared. We took down one or two and grabbed some family heirlooms before getting out."

Draco continued, "We managed to eavesdrop on their conversation for a few minutes ... from what they were saying, it sounded like my Father was willing, at least as far as they knew." Draco then turned to Harry with a remorseful look, "I'm sorry for overreacting; I just couldn't believe that he would lie like that to me. I also realize that if you hadn't done anything, Daphne could have been killed."

"I understand, Drake," Harry acknowledged in a sympathetic tone. "It can be hard to believe that someone so close to you could betray you like that; to even be willing to kill you just for success."

Draco's head jerked up suddenly, as he noticed that Harry had faced the exact same problem, but with three of his best friends. The Floo lit up, and the Order of the Phoebe raised their wands cautiously, only to lower them as they saw Sirius and a certain pink haired Auror.

"Where were you and your folk while we were at Diagon Alley?" Blaise asked, somewhat harshly.

Tonks glared at him. "We were responding to another attack, which is why I came here..." she trailed off, and turned to Neville. "The primary attack was at the Alley, but there was also an attack to divert our attention ... at St. Mungo's."

Neville gasped, but Tonks continued. "The top couple of floors collapsed from the brunt of the attack ... I'm so sorry, Neville, but your parents were buried under the rubble."

Neville collapsed where he was sitting, and Tracey hugged him close to her, stroking his hair gently.

"How did you find this out?" Harry asked, knowing that there was no way in hell that Remus would let his two month pregnant girlfriend be involved in battle.

"I may be with child, but I'm not such an invalid that I can't do paperwork," she answered. "I heard the debrief; they're not sure if the target was the Longbottoms, the Hospital in general, or Lockhart, because he was bragging so much about being the greatest Wizard to walk Great Britain during Tommy Boy's resting period, as it was."

Tonks left shortly after, though Sirius decided to stay. "How are you doing, Nev?" Hannah asked her old crush quietly.

Neville tried to clear the lump in his throat, to no avail. "As awful as it may sound, I almost feel ... relieved? ... that they're out of their misery now."

"I sort of feel the same," Draco confided. "Except I'm relieved that we found out before Lucius could hurt any of us, and because I don't know if I would have been able to kill him."

Sirius mysteriously pulled a bottle of firewhiskey out of somewhere, and they each drank a small glass. Daphne and Harry left after the first glass, followed by Blaise and Hannah.

However, Draco and Neville were grieving, and Sirius … well, Sirius just wanted the excuse to get completely shit-faced without having as many consequences. At some point, Sirius' Marauder nature peeked its way through in the form of an ingenious prank that he, Draco, and Neville would carry out. Susan, Narcissa, and Tracey just ignored them.

In the dead of night, the three males carried out their Firewhiskey-inspired prank.

* * *

Harry woke up slowly, but just as comfortable as always. He was completely nude, as was the norm, and most of his body was covered by a blanket. It was also normal for him to see blonde hair in front of him, and for there to be an equally naked female body pressed against him.

So, for a few minutes, Harry merely enjoyed the warmth that the blankets and Daphne's body provided him, before starting to wake her up.

That was when he started to notice that something was wrong. As he began running his hands over Daphne's warm body, he observed that her posterior, tucked into against his hips, seemed to be slightly firmer and rounder than usual. On the contrary, the swell of her breasts was gentler than it was supposed to be, and when he nuzzled against her neck, the unique fragrance that was present in Amortentia for him had been replaced by another, still familiar smell.

Now, Harry may not have been all that great at Muggle sciences, but he was pretty sure that such changes did not appear overnight, and he was proved correct when the woman curled up against him turned around to face him. Instead of the face of Daphne Greengrass, the girl that he had loved for close to three years, he saw his other close friend, Hannah Abbot.

It should be noted that Daphne had a tendency to take out her frustration on the male genitalia, so it was a rather natural response for Harry to completely fall off of his bed, landing with an 'Oomph!' and waking Hannah by pulling the blankets off of her in the process.

"Blaise? What are you- oh my god! Harry? What are you doing here?" she screamed as she noticed that instead of her dark skinned lover, it was Harry whose bed she had slept in.

"I have no _fucking _clue!" he defended. "When I went to bed last night, it was me and Daphne-Daphne! Where is she? Holy shite I am so fucked!"

Hannah, who had previously been covering her breasts and privates with her arms, turned around to grab Daphne's bathrobe before pulling it on. "How about you put on a bathrobe and we can check in Blaise's room to see if he's there, or if something happened to him, too," she suggested, wanting to check on her own lover and hoping against hope that he was not with Daphne.

Harry agreed hastily, covering himself with a blanket until his own robe covered himself.

They quietly padded down the hall until they arrived at Blaise and Hannah's normal room, and slowly opened the door. Entering the room, they saw Blaise and Daphne staring at each other with much the same expressions as they had when they woke up.

"Morning Daphne, morning Blaise," Harry said casually, before suddenly turning serious. "What the _fuck_ happened last night?"

"I-I don't know," Daphne stuttered. "We just ... woke up together."

For a moment, Harry feared that Daphne and Blaise were cheating on him and Hannah, until he realized how ludicrous that sounded. Pondering how else this could have happened, his stomach fell as he came upon a plausible explanation: "Do you have any idea how much Firewhiskey Draco, Neville, and Sirius drank last night?"

Daphne, being her usual, frightening self, growled, "I'm gonna rip those bastards' balls off and shove them down their throats!"

Blaise had a less frightening response, though it was spoken with just as much venom: "Those _fuckers_!"

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you guys liked it. There are a few things that I need to say, however.

**Sirius**: I originally had Sirius having a kid with Amelia, but with my timeline, it may not work too well (that, and Sirius may not be capable of having kids after Daphne gets to him. Not that he'll be shooting blanks ... more like he won't have a gun to shoot with. Ouch). So, I'm at an impasse. On one hand, I could just make Amelia a few years younger; or I could make Harry the Lord Black, but he'd have to marry someone else. If you do want that, it will be JackPotr style rather than a legitimate 'Harem-fic', where his second wife will only appear in the last couple of chapters. Then, there is also the _**Mystery Choice**_; I won't tell you what it is. So it's your choice, and whichever gets the most reviews in favour of, I will choose.

**Maternal**: The other thing is that I want your opinion on which woman would be Harry's most maternal figure. It could be Bella, Andi, Cissy, Amelia, or even Tonks if you really want (though that would be slightly difficult to pull off). Anybody could fit, really. Mainly out of curiosity on who you guys (and gals) think would fit that spot well given this AU.

Other than that, I hope you liked the chapter. Ginny is dead, but so is Moody, and Draco, Neville, and Sirius may not have much longer in the realm of the living. Review to let me know what you thought of the battle and your response to my other points, please!

Oh, and one other thing: **_800 followers!_**Wow, thank you to everyone who has followed/fave'd this story!


	27. Chapter 27 - Freedom

**Disclaimer**: I am currently too lazy to come up with a sarcastic and/or witty comment that would amount to: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or Braveheart.

Chapter 27 – Freedom

* * *

The next few days were painful for the inebriated trio of Sirius Black, Draco Malfoy, and Neville Longbottom. Sirius got the short stick through it all, as he also made the mistake of including Amelia Bones, his former flame, Susan's Aunt, and the Head of the DMLE to aid him in the eight against two duel in the place of the deceased Mad-Eye Moody.

Much to Sirius' confusion, she had not taken his excuse of "I was in Azkaban!" well when he was confronted on why he had stood her up on a date.

After some more pain for Sirius (this time a hefty slap in the face for the excuse), Amelia had interrogated Pettigrew with the use of Veritaserum. While Amelia acknowledged his innocence and completed a form for him to schedule an eventual trial, they would not make a big public deal of Sirius' innocence until after the War was over, since there was no reason to distract the public attention from their main goal.

Amelia had, after learning the truth behind her former flame's incarceration, slapped the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black once more. The general consensus was that if Bartemius Crouch Sr., Millicent Bagnold, Cornelius Fudge (the Senior Undersecretary at the time), or Albus Dumbledore were still alive, she would have changed that.

Sirius had also, during one of his many moments where he let his 'inner Padfoot' out, professed how happy he was that Witches and Wizards aged slower than Muggles.

The general rule for Wizards and Witches was that after they reached seventeen, the age at which they reached their magical maturity, they aged at half the pace of a Muggle. This allowed people such as Albus Dumbledore to live until the ripe age of one hundred and fifty, while still looking like they were in their early to mid eighties.

This warmed Sirius' heart because, after Amelia had slapped him for his stupidity in chasing after Wormtail, she had agreed to rekindle their old flame. Despite the fact that she was in her mid forties, her body was still only in the late twenties. This gave Sirius an excuse to copulate with her as frequently as possible, something that Blaise related to rabbits (and was later hexed for), Susan and Harry blushed at, and Daphne was privately glad about.

Daphne's sudden warmth towards Sirius' increased likelihood of reproduction was not, in any way, because of a newfound appreciation for the man. On the contrary, she despised some of his chauvinistic attitudes, and yearned to hex his bits off for his role in the 'switch up' between her and Hannah. She was, however, relieved that if Sirius and Amelia had a son, they would become the new heir to the House of Black.  
With a new Black scion, she would not have to worry about Harry forgetting about her in the quest for a second wife. Despite her knowledge that Harry loved her with everything he had, she feared that when she became old, he would leave her.

When she told her lover that, he merely laughed, and proceeded to prove his undying love for her. The bliss that it induced was so strong that she was unable to train the next day, although explaining to their friends that she could not feel her legs was deathly embarrassing.

She had just been glad that she had taken a potion to alleviate the pain in her throat, from all of her screaming the previous night and ... other acts.

Harry and Neville's birthdays had been celebrated by a day where training was cut short by an hour and a half. The two new adults (technically, Harry had already been emancipated and therefore an adult in the Wizarding World. However, he had not achieved his full magical maturity until his birthday) had enjoyed a night of amusement, enjoyment, and a couple of provocative dances from their own Slytherin loves that had made Sirius and Blaise whistle.

It was as though the two of them knew that they had reputations as being rather sleazy, and did all they could to live up to them.

They had then extracted as much information as possible from their prisoners on the whereabouts, plans, and followers of Lord Voldemort. While none of them could tell of his location, as it was likely under the Fidelius, they were able to discern that he was at Nott Manor. Draco had been there a few times socializing, but could no longer remember where it was, leading them to believe that the Dark Lord was indeed there.

They had yet to attack any of the establishments that their prisoners were able to speak of. This is because they wanted to make sure that all of the pre-emptive attacks were coordinated so that Voldemort had no time to realize what was happening or that they had attained information from the captured Death Eaters.

Draco and Harry's friendship had been somewhat shaky for the first few days after the attack on Diagon Alley, with Draco barely speaking to him, until they made up over a bottle of firewhiskey. Draco had told him that, while he understood that Harry had had to kill Lucius, he was still conflicted over whether or not his father had been there of his own will.

Further investigation into Dolohov, Pettigrew, and the others' lives revealed that Lucius had indeed been a Death Eater of his own volition, leading to Narcissa changing her last name to Black. Draco had stayed a Malfoy, as he wanted to change the public opinion of his ancestors' name, that had been so sullied by his father and grandfather, who had supported both Voldemort and Grindelwald during their reigns of power.

The marriage of Bill and Fleur Weasley had been simple and quiet, taking place in the Cathédrale Notre-Dame. The British guests had been limited to only those that knew the groom personally, rather than everyone that walked the British Isles, as Molly had originally been demanding.

During those weeks, the New Order continued to train fervently, and they had almost all completed their Animagus change, with Neville sometimes forgetting his tail as a tiger. By the time their organized attacks had been scheduled, all of them were able to fluently change forms, something that they expected to take advantage of.

Blaise especially wanted to capture and kill Nagini, knowing that the serpent was a vessel of Voldemort's soul.

On the subject of horcruxes, Harry had spoken to Gabrielle at the wedding, and she had agreed to donate some of her blood for his soul ritual that would expel Voldemort's soul fragment. The plan was to keep the locket near his prone body, which would encourage the fragment to join its kin. Kreacher had found the locket within a few days. During the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, Mundungus Fletcher had snuck in to Grimmauld Place and stolen the locket, among other valuables.

He had then sold it to someone that Kreacher described as "a filthy toad woman." Harry and his friends had had a good laugh when they found out that Kreacher had also enchanted Delores Umbridge to write, using a blood quill, the words 'I must not eat flies' without being able to stop, until all the blood in her body was gone. The Ministry would classify it as a Vampire attack, which they found ironic due to her hatred of half-breeds.

Sirius had confronted Harry, Susan, and the others. He had spoken to them, and relayed Severus' argument that it would be best for them to not go to Hogwarts that year, at least until they had trained enough to take on Voldemort and his forces.

Harry had originally been against it, and had displayed his feelings in an angry outburst. It was not because of losing the chance at being Head Boy – no, while it would have been a nice accomplishment to him, it was the fact that he was laying down, letting Prewitt and his scum terrorize the defenceless children that irritated him.

Eventually, and surprisingly, it was Susan who had convinced both him and Neville, who had also been shaking with rage. Quite simply, she told them that they could do much more training while not at school; plus, the moment they walked into the school, Voldemort would be alerted.

They agreed, mainly to soothe Harry's testosterone-filled ego, that the moment that he was prepared, they would deliver Hogwarts out of Voldemort's hands.

Harry had invited Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina, and Oliver Wood over the day after the Battle of Diagon Alley, and the six Quidditch team mates had slowly tortured Dolohov for information, enjoying the squeals of one of the people responsible for the death of Katie Bell. Fred and George had particularly enjoyed taking one of their Beaters' Bats to him, although Harry had had to turn away at that point because it reminded him too much of his Uncle doing the same to him with a cricket bat when he was a child.

However, Harry had long ago persevered through the abuse that he had taken, and had learned to stop moping around because it failed to do anything productive. And if there was one thing that was necessary during a war, it was productivity.

Harry also knew that the war was starting to wind down. Despite the fact that it had only been publicly acknowledged for around a year, and that Voldemort was still striking fear into the hearts of many, he could feel that this summer was the calm before the storm. While he and the rest of the resistance against Voldemort were training, Voldemort was likely preparing himself for the bigger attacks, too.

The main targets Harry could think of were Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic itself. He would include Potter Manor, but he knew that it was basically impenetrable. Thus, he figured that if he trained as much as he possibly could over a short period of time, he could fight Voldemort on his terms, in an inevitable battle for either Hogwarts or the Ministry – and once one fell, so would the other, like dominoes – and he could do so before Voldemort had such a stranglehold over the British Isles that he would be unable to break into the Dark Lord's own fortress.

Harry had only a couple more goals left before he could avenge his parents' murder, or die trying: the ritual to remove the Horcrux within him and the raids on some of the discovered Death Eater homes.

Their first task was the latter. Harry, along with Daphne, Sirius, and Bella, represented the smallest task force. Their target was an inn within Knockturn Alley. While it was normally a highly acclaimed place because of their tolerance for Vampires, Werewolves, and other 'half-breeds' that the Ministry shunned, it had been taken over by Voldemort and his cronies.

Some of his followers that were not from the wealthy Pureblood families had decided to take up free rent there, after killing the previous owner. This included Yaxley, Runcorn and, according to Dolohov, the Prewitts.

Harry had his plans for the traitorous bastards. With Granger and Ginny dead and gone already, he had decided to take down Ron next, while making Molly watch. This would make the bitch's boggart come true: watching her family die, unable to help them.

The four of them – Sirius, Harry, Bella, and Daphne – were the only four on this mission because it required stealth. It would occur at night, in the middle of Knockturn Alley, so the abilities of four black creatures – a Grim, two shadow panthers, and a raven – to blend into the background would be very beneficial.

Harry focussed on making sure that his claws digging into the spaces between the cobblestones did not cause him to lose his balance, as he followed Sirius' lead, turning into a darkened shop nearby their target: _The Bloody Quill_. Even the name was ridiculously clichéd for a place that hosted all manners of Dark Creatures.

Harry stared at Padfoot with unblinking, yellow eyes. The dog, who had been the de facto leader of the raid, apparently got the silent message, as he transformed back into Sirius Black. He pursed his lips with a serious look that he rarely expressed.

"So, here's the plan..."

* * *

Knockturn Alley was a shady place at the best of times. In the middle of the night, consequently, it was a place that very few wanted to be near, least of all the educated, pompous upper class.

Knowing this, it would surprise some that one of the wealthiest people in all of Britain was stalking around the shadows of the run down street, accompanied by his equally wealthy godfather, his partner in both crime and in bed, and his godfather's cousin.

When taken into consideration that the two adults were escaped convicts and that the boy – man, now – was hailed as the saviour of his world, it was an incredibly strange scene. The oddness was not lessened by the fact that they were not human.

Indeed, the female convict, a woman named Bella Black, was currently in the form of a raven, so black that she was nearly purple, and somewhat larger than the normal raven. Intelligent amber eyes peered out at the world, taking everything in. She had once been considered to be the right hand of the Dark Lord Voldemort, but had actually been enslaved by her now deceased husband into the Dark Lord's ranks.

The male convict, who was often called the Dogfather, was a Wizard by the name of Sirius Black. He was a prankster, and his many relationships with various women had made several call him a dog. This was true at the moment, as he padded along the broken cobblestones in the form of a large, black, spectral dog known as a grim. He had been wrongfully accused of being allied with the Dark Lord, and imprisoned without even a trial. His yellow eyes gleamed eagerly in anticipation of what was to come.

While the raven soared easily, and the dog smoothly padded, a pair of panthers, a very rare sight in London (or in the rest of Britain, for that matter) slunk alongside them.

The two felines had the darkest shade of fur imaginable, so dark that the shadows seemed bright in comparison to them. The only ways to tell them apart were the white patch of fur on the male's forehead that resembled a jagged lightning bolt, and their eye colour. The male's eyes were a brilliant emerald that shone with a brightness that was in stark contrast to the darkness of his fur; the female's were a soothing shade of blue that seemed to flicker occasionally, darkening and lightening.

Indeed, Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass struck an imposing figure, even in such a run-down area as Knockturn Alley.

Harry was the brutal force of the group. Thus, he was the first to transform back to his bespectacled, dark haired human form, though he left his left forepaw as it was.

Ever since the fight at Diagon Alley, he had found that he enjoyed keeping one hand in shadow panther form. It allowed him to defend himself without using magic as well as with magic, a freedom that was essential in his opinion. Neville had done the same, as he also found comfort in having the tiger appendage available.

Daphne, who was the Charms expert of the group, also reverted to her stunning human form, and set up several of the strongest Anti-Apparition wards that she knew of around the inn and for about fifty feet around it in every direction.

Sirius, their strategist and dueller extraordinaire, switched into his two footed form, holding his wand at arm's length in anticipation of the incoming fight.

Finally, Bella stayed put, keeping watch as a raven. Sirius, in one of his cleverer moments, though that was not saying much, had given her Animagus the name Corvus. In doing so, he kept in the Black tradition of naming their children after constellations – Orion, Sirius, Andromeda, and Draco were but a few examples. He also alluded to the fact that Muggle scientists identified ravens as belong to the genus 'Corvus.'

Bella was the metaphorical ace up their sleeve. They were hoping that seeing her would be enough of a surprise for the Death Eaters to knock them off guard.

Once Daphne gave the signal to Harry to show that all wards had been raised so that their potential victims could not escape, he began belting the wards around the inn with everything he had, using the most powerful spells that he possessed.

A few of the spells were from the Potter Grimoire, which also contained spells invented or modified by the Peverells, LeFays, and other ancient families that they had assimilated into their bloodline.

After a few such spells, the wards were forced to take a corporeal form, showing that they were weakening. Sparks began to erupt along the front of the translucent dome were spells collided with it. Seeing that they had nearly collapsed, but that the tenants would awaken soon, if they had not already, Harry sent the strongest spell he knew of.

Technically, it was the second strongest spell in his repertoire. However, the other one was a Curse that he had found in Morgana's Spell books, a Spell so powerful that she had been the only user of it to survive. It was an Old Norse Spell, known simply as "Thor's hammer," and claimed to be powerful enough to wipe out an entire army.

While Harry believed that he would eventually use it when fighting the Dark Lord, as he thought that it would be the Power He Knew Not that had been alluded to in the Prophecy, he was unwilling to risk his life before then on the chance that it would work.

So instead, the green flash that had, for so long, haunted his dreams erupted around him, as he cast for the first time, "Avada Kedavra!"

The Killing Curse that had both ended and ruined so many lives in the past, including those of Harry and his parents, completely and utterly bypassed the remaining wards, brutally destroying the magical shield around the building's premises. A pigeon fell to the ground, murdered by the Unforgivable Curse.

"Let's go," Harry said, licking his suddenly dry lips in an attempt to add moisture.

The other three, with Bella now in her human form, followed silently. Bella had an approving, albeit understanding look: clearly, she was impressed with his use of the Killing Curse to bypass the wards, and could sympathize with his regret in using the Curse that killed his parents.

Sirius and Daphne both seemed somewhat shaken, but were nowhere near the repulsion that Harry had feared he would see. Then again, it could just be because Daphne hated pigeons, geese, and most other avian beings with all of her soul.

Harry walked through the doorway cautiously, quickly dispatching the man at the desk with a Cutting Curse to his neck. Blood spurted out of his jugular vein, which had been severed by Harry's spell.

Another man, who had been loitering in the small lounge room, noticed the quartet, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets, though they knew not whether it was because of the intrusion, Bella, Harry, or a combination. Or perhaps he was simply constipated. He went to yell, but only blood dribbled out of his mouth, a thin line caused by Bella's unforgiving Piercing Hex to his chest.

There were a couple of dozen Death Eaters there, but they clearly were not expecting any sort of attack, despite the fact that their wards had gone down. Perhaps they were simply so arrogant that they believed that no one would dare to attack them, or that no one was strong enough to breach the wards, and it must have been an error?

Regardless of their reasoning, any methods of organization that they may have been trying fell to shambles when they saw Bella, who allowed a small part of her former self through. Cackling madly and reminding many why she was widely considered the most powerful Witch in the world; she spread fear, disarray, and death throughout her foes.

Within a quarter of an hour, the ground was soaked with the blood and guts of their enemies: a complete and utter slaughter. Only Sirius had a small laceration on his shoulder, which he sealed with a simple "Episkey!"

There were only a couple of Death Eaters that had survived: Albert Runcorn, one of Katie's murderers, and Yaxley. In Harry's opinion, the latter simply did not want to die; he had taken several Bludgeoning Hexes and Cutting Curses, but still stood there, as if he felt no pain.

Harry felt a sudden feeling of fright creep over him as goose bumps appeared on his arms. What if somehow, someway, Lord Voldemort had found a way to dull the pain of his soldiers, so that they could continue on through it?

Harry shook that thought out of his head, and looked around at the corpses of Death Eaters with no remorse. In his opinion, they would have killed him, and many more, if they had the chance. Why, then, would he adopt the Dumbledorian policy – as Blaise had mockingly nicknamed it – of second chances and Stunners?

No, Harry's only regret was that the Prewitts had not been there, whether by their own luck or if Dolohov had simply been misinformed.

Harry grabbed Runcorn's arm tighter than necessary, his nails sharpening slightly and drawing blood, while Sirius grabbed Yaxley. Daphne removed the wards around the inn, and gave the 'all clear' signal.

Moments later, Aurors appeared, only to find twenty two dead bodies, each of which had a Death Mark tattooed onto their left forearm.

* * *

He was naked.

This, in and of itself, was not out of the norm. He was naked when he woke up, when he showered, when he went to sleep, and just about whenever he and Daphne had free time.

What was different, however, was that people were looking at him: several, to be exact.

Daphne he understood, because she was required to do the ritual. To a certain extent, Gabrielle's presence could be justified, because it was her blood being used. However, the rest of the Black family – Bella, Andromeda, Narcissa, Tonks, and Sirius –had absolutely no reason to be there! Well, maybe Sirius, as he was his godfather, but even that was a stretch.

Daphne dipped the quill, a feather freely given from Fawkes, into the ink pot, filled with a mixture of Phoenix tears, Gabrielle's blood, Daphne's blood (simply because it signified pure love for him), his own blood, and freely given blood from a unicorn that Hagrid had found in the Forbidden Forest.

Fawkes had simply appeared when they thought of him helping them. Harry had wondered, somewhat depressed, if the creature would ever die. Without his bonded, an immortal life would not be nearly as enjoyable, though Harry supposed that Fawkes could bond with someone else. Alas, his sagging plumage showed just how sad the fiery creature was.

Harry felt his cheeks flame up with red even as the blood in his body rushed South as Daphne inscribed a rune on his inner thigh, her warm breath tickling his genitals. Even more embarrassing was the amused looks from the viewers, although he was also disturbed as Narcissa, almost reflexively, licked her lips.

Daphne's sure hand continued to write the runes all over his body; they all signalled purity, rebirth, and the like. Finally, she arrived at his head, and after adding the finishing touches, she stepped back for a moment, checking over her work.

His entire body was full of ancient runes from Greek, Norse, and Egyptian society; clearly, Morgana LeFay had been quite the scholar. He wanted to make a sarcastic comment, such as, _'I always imagined that if I got a tattoo, it would be badass, like a Hungarian Horntail.'_ However, he was unsure if speaking would cause any of the markings to stretch or smudge, so he remained silent.

After a few moments, Andromeda, who had been the best at runes while at Hogwarts, acknowledged them as 'proper and sufficiently accurate,' and declared that Harry was fit for the next stage.

Now, the viewers left the room, leaving only Harry, Daphne, a locket, and a small jar. They had done so in the case that the soul fragment wound up in one of their bodies instead. The locket was moved until it was nearly touching Harry's hair.

"I love you, Harry," she said, gently squeezing his unblemished hand. She then opened the jar of basilisk venom and Phoenix tears. She lightly smeared the viscous solution over his scar, as per Morgana's instructions, and then jumped several feet back.

He knew exactly what was supposed to be happening, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain; it was even worse than when his arm had been pierced by a basilisk fang. He writhed in agony, but could not thrash as he wished due to the magical bonds holding down his arms and legs.

Slowly, a black mist seeped out of his scar, before screaming and shooting straight into the locket, where it joined its soul brother. Or sister, though he figured Voldemort's soul would be male, though his bullying nature could have been caused by an insecure little girl within him.

Just before Harry lost consciousness, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming pain, he remembered a quote from a film that he and Daphne had seen the year before at the cinema.

_'...For one chance – just one chance! – to come back here, and tell our enemies...'_ Harry could not even imagine striking up a friendly conversation with Voldemort.

_'That they may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!'_

* * *

**A/N:** So there it is. This was honestly quite brutal to write. My inspiration (or muse, whatever) decided to take a vacation without me. The beginning is also filler, so I'm not very happy with the whole chapter. Let me know what you thought, and I might rework it.

**Edits:** Speaking of reworking, I edited a few of the earlier chapters. I changed the use of the Cruciatus to something else (which Skeeter simply calls an unidentified Dark curse), and added depth to Harry's reaction in the first chapter. Also, I fixed the spelling of Horcrux that I made mistakes in with the early chapters, as well as the mistakes with Apparation/Apparition.

**Mystery:** For those of you who cared, the Mystery Choice was Sirius having several children throughout the world that he knew not of. Also, you won't expect Harry's maternal figure, the reveal will be next chapter. Honestly, the only reason I did the whole 'harem choice' thing was that I wanted Hannah to have a happy ending, because the selfish part of me wanted to have Blaise's mum die, and then he gets killed, simply for the chapter title _'Blaise of glory'_... lol. Who knows what will happen now?

I think that's it! Please review your opinion, and thanks for reading!  
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	28. Chapter 28 - Preparing for War

**Disclaimer: **According to my most recent bank statement, I have not recently come upon ownership of the Harry Potter franchise. As always, all rights go to J.K. Rowling.

_Warning: The last section includes elements of rape. Do not read if not comfortable with such scenes. Also, the first scene is somewhat cracky._

Chapter 28 – Preparing for War

* * *

It was a regular morning at Potter Manor. The estate was large enough to house over forty people – which was lucky, because there was almost exactly forty people in the house.

Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass were eating some bacon and eggs calmly, staring at Oliver Wood. Harry's old Quidditch captain was trying to convince Harry to try professional Quidditch after he graduated and killed Voldemort, with not very subtle hints that Puddlemere United had great weather that time of year.

Down the table, Sirius, Remus, and the Weasley twins were comparing prank ideas. While it was a seemingly inconsequential topic in the middle of a war, and some would even say detrimental to their effort, this allowed the four pranksters to retain what small amount of sanity the possessed. Tonks, Angelina, and Alicia were gossiping, and Amelia had stayed upstairs, because she had apparently been feeling unwell.

Naturally, Sirius had claimed that she had not been able to walk after the 'orgasmic coma' he had sent her into the night earlier.

The three gossipers had different ideas, though Sirius had only heard murmurs of 'morning sickness' ... whatever that was.

Tonks currently had dark hair, which was significant in that it was her true form. While somewhat resentful that she was unable to have pink or purple hair anymore, she and Remus had agreed that changing her form while pregnant could have negative effects for the baby.

Having stuck to one form so long, she had also fixed her balance issues. It appeared that her constant morphing had caused her to be as clumsy as she was, as her centre of gravity was unstable. She had a noticeable bulge in her tummy, representative of her nearly four months of pregnancy. It was also due to this that she had never been able to take part in the younger generation's training.

Angelina and Alicia had begun to frighten all of the males in the Estate, to the point where they were feared as much as Daphne. The night that Harry had captured Runcorn during the raid, Nott Sr. had also been caught, concluding the trio of Katie's murderers. The two chasers had proceeded to take out all of their frustrations on the three men, including their bits being removed and shoved in various uncomfortable places.

After they had been dosed with so much Veritaserum that they nearly overdosed and coughed up all of the information they possessed, the six Quidditch players had taken great enjoyment in killing the trio, to the point where all three Death Eaters had become quivering piles of flesh and faeces.

Draco and Susan were eating in silence, gaining their sustenance via that method that only couples are able and allowed to use, where they were practically feeding each other in a sickening way to everyone else that was not a couple.

In other words: Oliver Wood.

They were soon joined by Hannah Abbot, who meandered down the stairs with Blaise Zabini close behind. It was quite clear that Blaise was only walking behind for the view.

Noticing Oliver sulking at Harry's continued negatives towards professional Quidditch and his lack of a female counterpart, Blaise decided to sit across from the fanatical Keeper.

"Good morning, Wood," he said, before snorting in laughter. Sirius, Remus, and the Weasley twins also laughed along, because they always laughed at immature jokes. Tonks had to stifle a laugh, but only because her mother was present.

At Oliver's quizzical look, Blaise elaborated. "Good morning, Wood; Good 'morning wood'."

Harry nodded sagely. "Ah, so what Blaise is trying to say is that ... he was complimenting Oliver's penis?"

As the quartet of pranksters chortled once again, Blaise's cheeks reddened in indignation. "What? No, no, that's not what I meant!" he protested.

"Then why would you compliment him on his morning wood?" Daphne asked, her eyes alight with amusement.

"I-I ... Merlin damn it, I meant, 'Good morning, Oliver,'" Blaise explained. He then huffed at the amused looks from everyone around the table - even, to his shame, his mother - before running back up the marble staircase.

"What's got his knickers in a twist?" Tracey asked, an amused expression on her face as she navigated the stairwell, a red eared Blaise hurrying past her and Neville.

"His homosexuality was revealed," Draco answered, causing Hannah to pout. "Not that I have anything against people who are homosexual, merely an observation," he added hurriedly at Susan's glare. Her great Uncle had bat for the other team.

Neville choked out a cough, but Tracey simply looked unfazed. "Finally noticed that, have you?" At disbelieving looks from everyone, she explained, "All of his bravado and acting like a player - it was obviously just that: an act to conceal his sexual orientation."

Sirius gained an indignant expression as nearly every person at the table turned to stare at him. "What?"

The entire Order of the Phoebe simply turned away from him without another word, causing the dog animagus to pout.

Next down the stairs was Astoria Greengrass, followed not long after by Angela Zabini, who was three years older than her recently departed brother. While the pair sat reasonably far apart, no one missed the looks they gave each other. Even Sirius, judging by his lecherous looks, had caught on. Oliver was simply irritated that the one single girl his age when he had got there had already been taken by a girl four years younger than her – and five younger than him.

Astoria had also been training, though at nowhere near the pace at which the original eight were. She was mainly in duels against one person, occasionally two after she had 'graduated'. However, she knew that she was nowhere near the skills that Harry possessed.

Harry's right index and middle fingers were tapping the table in a staccato, highly excited for what the day would bring.

He felt confident, more so than he had in quite some time, that they would manage to defeat all thirty two members of the Order of the Phoebe, except for Tonks, Angela, and Tori.

They had been at that level for over a week, and the most recent day, they had done better than ever before. In the end, it had been just him against Sirius and Bella, who had conspired to take him out.

Each day, the four enemies they each had would be switched around. He knew that they were at the second highest tier: the final level was winning a four against one fight against Bella, Sirius, Andi, and Cissy.

While the fight against the four Blacks would be near impossible, he was confident that it would happen eventually; that all eight of he and his friends would defeat the Black family.

Until then, that day, the Autumn equinox of September 21, was a day that signified the balance between night and day before night began to encroach, and so Harry would defeat his four opponents today, to continue to still the night.

Because he had a feeling that, should the night regain it's full strength, the day would never rise again.

* * *

The eight students had each taken four slips of paper out of a hat, each with a name on it. The four opponents now lined up across from each of them, before coming to rest in a small semicircle, each adult witch or wizard holding their wand at arm's length.

Harry could see Hannah standing calmly at the other side of the large, open room. They had all been nervous, or frustrated, or any other emotion in between during their first duels against four opponents, but they had learned that they had to be in the right mindset to fight, rather than charging into battle, if they wanted to stand a chance.

Thus, all eight had adopted a somewhat Slytherin policy, of studying their opponents until they knew their tactics, and how they fought with each other. As long as no one had Fred and George, or Sirius and Remus, there was generally confusion among their opponents in the beginning stages.

That was why Hannah was so calm and straight-backed, analyzing what she knew of Narcissa Black (she had wanted to lose all traces of Lucius Malfoy), Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley (she worried about how synchronous they would be), and Grace Abbot, her mother.

A few feet away, separated by a magical barrier that would only fall once all four of their opponents were down, stood Blaise Zabini. He too had an analytical expression marring his Italian face as he stared across the room at Amelia Bones, Ted Tonks, Severus Snape, and George Weasley. While worried about having to face Amelia -I-and-I Severus, he was glad that he did not have to face both Weasley twins.

A bit away from him was Tracey Davis. The only sign of her nerves was the way she nibbled on her lower lip occasionally. Of course, none could fault her, having to face Bella Black, Minerva McGonagall, Apolline Delacour, and Alicia Spinett.

Next was Neville Longbottom, who showed more nervousness than Tracey, though that could be because he was unsure of how he would combat against the Allure. Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley, Oliver Wood, and Fleur Delacour stood across from him, though he was encouraged by the fact that he probably had one of the easier rounds, with Oliver having taken what would have been Tonks' place.

On the other hand, Fleur's Allure had proven deadly to him, Draco, and Blaise before, and even Harry had shown some difficulties. She would be his first priority, he decided.

Susan Bones was twirling her auburn hair around, breathing deeply and fingering her wand. Her scheduled opponents were Filius Flitwick, Amos Diggory (who had agreed to help avenge his son), Fred Weasley, and Diana Greengrass.

Then there was the aristocratic Draco Malfoy, who sneered and raised antagonistic eyebrows at Andromeda Tonks, Maria Zabini (who scared the living daylights out of not only him, but her male comrade), Hestia Jones, and Nathaniel Davis (the afore mentioned male comrade).

Closest to Harry, literally and figuratively, was Daphne Greengrass. The blonde haired, buxom beauty was facing Emmeline Vance (who occasionally glanced at Harry nervously, for some reason), Jacques Delacour, Stacey Davis (her best friend's mother. Perhaps she could use her sympathy against her), and Seamus Abbot.

Finally, there was Harry himself. He felt as though someone had slipped him Felix Felicis, so confident he was that this would be the day that they would win. He smirked at Sirius Black, Augusta Longbottom, Nicholas Greengrass (who cracked his knuckles threateningly at his prospective son-in-law), and Angelina Johnson.

His left hand was already a paw, which he drew across his neck mockingly, his claws extended so that they nearly pierced his flesh. Sirius growled back at him, a feral snarl that would have made some men quake in fear.

Astoria stood near the door, wand in hand, and sent a series of red sparks into the air. She then quickly ducked behind the door to avoid the inevitable trading of spells, presumably to spend some quality time with Angela.

Harry also knew that in the adjoining room, close to fifty beds would be set up, and Madam Pomfrey would be standing there waiting, a disapproving expression on her face.

Not taking any more time to think of his love's sister getting 'freaky' – as Gred and Forge had put it, which resulted in Hexes from Daphne, Alicia, and Angelina – he sent off a Knee Reversing Curse at Augusta. Taken slightly off guard at his aggressive start, she was unable to shield or dodge the spell.

Her kneecaps reversed upon themselves, making her lose her balance and fall, her hips banging against the ground. Noticing that he had the advantage over the elderly woman, Harry quickly Stunned and Bound her, before Sticking her to the wall, a fair distance from his other three opponents.

Speaking of which, Nicholas, Angelina, and Sirius were staring at him with shock at how he ruthlessly dispatched of Neville's grandmother. Not giving them time to think, he began sending Bone Breaking Curses and other such near-lethal spells at them, forcing them all to go on the defensive.

It was only a matter of time until one of them lost concentration or simply lost their power to control their shield. As he had predicted, Angelina was downed by a Cutter to the knee, as well as a "Depulso!" that knocked her unconscious as he flew into the wall that Augusta was attached to.

Harry turned back to his enemies ... and found Sirius missing. Not sure whether he had been injured as well, or if he was merely in hiding, waiting for a chance, he began advancing on Nicholas, who was able to hold his own. After a few moments, Harry decided that a distraction would be useful at that time.

Dispelling his Shielding Charm for a second to get the Greengrass Lord's attention, he proclaimed loudly, "By the way … I forgot to congratulate you on being a grandfather!"

Nicholas stopped mid-spell, his eyes widening at the implications. "What?" he managed to ask, before Harry Stunned him. He soon joined Augusta and Angelina against the wall, Bound and unconscious.

Noticing that the barrier was still up between him and Daphne, Harry looked around, feeling foolish for not paying more attention to Sirius. He morphed his nose into the panther, and spotted Padfoot's scent nearby.

Twirling around, he saw Padfoot flying towards him. The big dog's eyes widened in fear as he transformed into the panther and, unable to stop in the middle of the air, he continued towards him. Harry swatted at his Godfather, causing him to fly once again, this time colliding with the wall, and bringing some rubble down with them.

Harry advanced on his injured Godfather, both back in human form, and began casting a series of spells against him, several of which came from the Potter family Grimoire. After a few minutes, Sirius began to push him back, so Harry Transfigured a piece of rubble into a wooden club.

Remembering the events of the Halloween of his first year, he Animated the club so that it swung itself. With a crack of wood against the back of Sirius' head, he fell forward onto the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head. Harry stepped forward and patted his cheeks unsympathetically, before Stunning him for good measure, and letting him join his comrades, though Harry decided to have some fun with the positioning.

He made to turn to aid Daphne, but felt the bluntness of a wand pressed against his neck. "Yield?" a feminine voice asked.

Assuming that it was Daphne, he went to pull her into an intimate embrace, but was met by a boot to his chest, pushing him to the ground and forcing his wand to clatter a few metres away.

He felt a boot press against his neck, and followed the leg to see the rather shapely (from an objective view, of course) form of Emmeline Vance pointing her wand at him.

"Yield?" she repeated.

"No," he answered, trying to find Daphne with what limited manoeuvrability his neck had. There she was, on the ground. Not unconscious, but too far away from her wand. "You'll have to take me out yourself," he added, trying to put some bravado into his voice while continuing to stall until Daphne could reach her wand.

Obviously he failed, as she simply brushed some of her dark hair out of the way of her vision. "Stupe-" she began, but cut herself off. Removing her foot from his neck, she helped him to his feet.

"Er ... Thanks?" he asked, confused at what was happening.

"I can't hurt you, Harry," she said. "Not when I was supposed to protect you."

"What? Why?" Harry asked, his confusion still prevalent.

"Because, Harry, I am your Godmother."

'Huh?' Harry wondered, 'Did she just say "Godmother"?'

"Stupefy!" a voice called out, and Emmeline fell to the ground, unconscious.

Harry turned to see Daphne, a victorious smirk on her face. And he could see why, as Bella seemed to be the only opponent left. Before the eight could surround her, she fell to her knees, hands behind her head.

"I yield."

She then giggled as she noticed Sirius' unconscious form, his head under Augusta Longbottom's skirt.

At least: she hoped that he was unconscious.

* * *

"So ... you're my Godmother?"

Emmeline nodded reassuringly at Harry, who turned his glare on Sirius. "And _why _was I never made aware of this?"

Sirius laughed nervously, repositioning the ice pack that rested on his crotch. Augusta Longbottom had not been happy to wake up to see his head buried between her legs, and his claims that he had not done it intentionally had done nothing to dim the flame of her anger.

Asking Amelia to help him had been rather counter-productive.

"I think I should explain that," Emmeline explained. "You see, me and Lily were very good friends." Sirius and Remus had coughed at that, which she scowled at them for.

"Me and your mother, as well as these idiots and James Potter and Wormtail, were all sorted into Gryffindor in the same year. The first couple of years, me and Lily were ... cordial, though not the best of friends. I spent most of my time with Hestia Jones, who had also been in our year.

"Around our third and fourth years, I started to notice boys … and James Potter started to notice girls: one girl in particular, your mother. And, well, I had a thing for your father: star chaser, brilliant at Transfigurations despite seeming to barely try, and funny to boot, he was easy to fall for.

"I'm ashamed to say that this all caused quite the rift between your mother and I. In fact, I resented her deeply for something she had no control over. I began to bully her, playing pranks on her while framing James, hoping that she would deter him from courting her.

"It didn't, and by the time we were in seventh year, I finally got over myself and my little crush. I stopped pranking Lily, and she got together with James, assuming that he had matured when, in reality, it had been me that had matured.

"While still very much in love with James Potter, I created a deep bond of friendship with your mother, and over the next decade or so, we had become the best of friends, even better and deeper than the friendship between me and Hestia.

"She named me your Godmother, saying that if James got to choose the Godfather, especially someone as irresponsible as Sirius, then she could choose any Godmother.

"When ... that night happened, I sunk into grief and despair. Hestia was really the only one there for me, because Sirius was in Azkaban, Peter was presumed dead, and Remus was wallowing in their and his at the time girlfriend's deaths. After a couple of months, close to New Years of 1982, I began searching for you, but Dumbledore blocked me at every stop, saying that you were safe with your relatives.

"Apparently, he couldn't risk a free Death Eater catching me and stealing my memories of your home, and he ignored my claims that Petunia and Vernon were awful people to put you with.

"I joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and became an Auror for the past sixteen or so years. When you were eleven and started Hogwarts, Dumbledore continued to say that you would be safer if no one knew where you lived, and I - to my deepest regret - believed him without a doubt, and never searched for you."

Harry frowned.

"And why didn't you say anything to me while we were staying the summer at Grimmauld Place? All those Order meetings..."

"I ... I was worried that you would react like this, but much worse: that you would deny me as your Godmother, that you would hate me for staying away..." A tear rolled down her cheeks.

Harry seemed upset that anyone would think that he could ever hate someone so close to his mum. "No, I don't hate you – I don't think I ever could. Besides, I know so little about my mum, maybe you could tell me more than that I simply had her eyes."

Emmeline downright growled at Sirius. "No one has ever told him anything about Lily?" She took deep breaths, as if to calm herself down.

"While you may look like James, your personality is exactly the same as Lily's. She was always so compassionate, so forgiving, while James had a tendency to be arrogant. Part of being raised as an only child in a pureblood family meant that he had been told all his life how great he was at any accomplishment, and it resulted in that haughty demeanour he had.

"He was also quite mischievous, which you seem to have inherited," she alluded to Sirius' compromising position when he was Enervated. "Lily was exceedingly bright in Potions and Charms, while James was a master in Transfiguration. Minerva's little prodigy, he was."

Professor McGonagall, for what may well have been the first time in recorded history, blushed.

"Lily was loved by just about everyone, except for the Pureblood supremacists and some of the girls who, like me, were envious of James' attention. The Professors fawned over her, girls wanted to be her, and the guys simply wanted her."

Harry looked about to retch, though Emmeline was certain that he would prefer her phrasing over her original thoughts: 'guys simply wanted to penetrate her.'

"Well!" Sirius clapped his hands loudly, raising a goblet of wine that he had retrieved from somewhere. "Here's to you eight and your victory today. Good luck against me, Bella, Cissy, and Andi!"

He smirked as his statement removed the victorious smiles from all eight with the exception of Harry.

Harry simply smirked at Nicholas Greengrass, further infuriating the already stewing man.

"Ms. Vance?" he asked, but Emmeline quickly interrupted.

"Call me Emmeline. Or Emmy, as your dad and Sirius did," she responded warmly.

"Well then, Emmeline, would you mind staying for a few minutes ... maybe talking about my mum for a bit?" he asked hopefully, motioning to everyone else, who was funnelling out of the room.

Emmeline smiled once again and sat down, happy for the potential bonding with her Godson.

"Of course," she replied, bringing a bright smile to Harry's face.

* * *

While the Light and Grey Witches and Wizards at Potter Manor were training and enjoying themselves, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had become a place of despair and pain.

Most students had stepped on the train expecting to be greeted by the stern, tight-lipped Minerva McGonagall. While this would not seem to be a good back to school image for impressionable youngsters, they much preferred her to what they got instead.

Amycus and Alecto Carrow patrolled the halls, with Severus Snape as Headmaster and Ron Prewitt and Lilith Moon as Head Boy and Girl.

The Dark Lord Voldemort had spies in every house – though they could not be considered as spies, considering how they were not even slightly subtle.

In Slytherin, where Junior Death Eaters were to be expected, they were led by Lilith Moon and Gregory Goyle, who only led them because he was the more intelligent of him and Vincent Crabbe, not that that was saying much.

The House that most valued intelligence, the House of Rowena Ravenclaw, looked to Kevin Entwhistle and Morag MacDougal. The two were immediately despised by their peers, the loudest of which were Terry Boot and Padma Patil, both of whom had been very close to Su Li and Mandy Brocklehurst. They had been punished.

Hufflepuff had surprised many, as Zacharias Smith and Megan Jones had both stepped up, taking advantage of the losses of Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot.

Finally, the 'noble' Gryffindors meekly followed Lavender Brown and Ron Prewitt. Lavender's decision to support Voldemort had caused a rift between her and Parvati Patil.

Punishment for rule-breakers and blood traitors was exposure to the Cruciatus, often by a fellow student. Ron had become especially proficient at it. Filch had been murdered in front of the school, with Mrs. Norris hung next to him. Several students had taken part in the display; noticeably, they all became unofficial leaders.

None of the students had particularly cared for Filch, but to see him tortured and killed in that way had disgusted and frightened them, especially when they noticed Professor McGonagall standing there, unable to help. Some days, it seemed like she, Flitwick, or Snape had been injured.

Hagrid had become the new caretaker, though he always had a magically reinforced chain around his neck.

Ron especially had become the bane of the school's population of young Witches. Women and girls alike now travelled in groups of three or four, but it still was not enough. What no one knew was that he had enlisted Smith and Entwhistle to help him, promising them their share as well.

September came and went, as did October. Samhain was approaching rapidly, and Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Terry Boot, and the Patil twins had gone missing. The rumour was that they had been killed by the Carrow's in a fury, but he knew that to be false.

They were hiding ... but where?

Ron breathed heavily as he reached his happy ending, the third year girl underneath him collapsing from the stress of holding him up and the pain of losing her maidenhood forcibly. She had not gone over the edge for some reason – indeed, no one other than Hermione and Alecto had ever done so with him.

They must have simply had better control. Girls that could control their urges better were more attractive to him, so he decided to go after them more often.

He buckled his pants and raised himself to his feet, sneering at the girl who was curled into a foetal position, blood running down her legs. '_Pathetic_,' he thought. It was no wonder to him that some men were so misogynistic.

He chuckled gently to himself as he pushed the young badger against the wall. He turned around and walked away slowly, waiting for it.

Sure enough, he heard the relieved gasp, the small sniffle, the broken sob that revealed her thoughts of safety.

How naïve.

He growled as he turned back to her and kept her pinned to the wall as he removed his trousers, before he entered the whimpering girl once again. Life, in Ronald Prewitt's opinion, was good.

How naïve he was to think that it would last.

* * *

**A/N:** What did you think? For some reason, Harry's Godmother is always either Amelia Bones or another political figure, or, coincidentally, the mother of his eventual wife. Well I say, fuck that! To hell with precedents!

**Next Chapter:** Unfortunately, I'm spending the week at my Aunt's while my parents spend their 25th anniversary in NYC. It won't come until Saturday or Sunday at the earliest, though I will try to write it while I'm gone. The next chapter will be the battle scene ... Or maybe I'll just skip to the Epilogue to screw with you guys ... You know what? I like that idea.

Also, I realize that the whole "Autumn Equinox" metaphor was very strained. Oh well. Also, was anyone else really disappointed in Discovery for that Megalodon fraud? (But Sharknado was hilarious!)

**Review** for Draco Malfoy's antagonistic eyebrow raise!


	29. Chapter 29 - Sixteen Years Later

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

_This chapter is dedicated to Potterandplumfan, who was my first ever reviewer._

Chapter 19 – Sixteen Years Later

* * *

A large group of adults, ranging from young, middle aged, and elderly, appeared in the courtyard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with the pops of Apparition.

Several of them thanked Merlin, Morgana, or another deity or ancient Magical being that the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape, was on their side. If he had been loyal to the Dark Lord, they would never have had a chance to get into Hogwarts without Voldemort and his entire army knowing.

They quickly separated into six groups. Four of the groups were each given a House to infiltrate and neutralize any Death Eater sympathizers; the other two groups split up to approach the offices of Amycus and Alecto Carrow, respectively.

It was just Harry's luck that he had to deal with the craziest bitch he had ever heard of (which was saying quite a bit, considering his ties with Hermione Granger, Ginevra, and Bella Black formerly Lestrange): Alecto Carrow.

It also, however, was not a coincidence at all that his sources, primarily Severus Snape, had informed him that much of her evenings were spent in the company of Ronald Prewitt, someone who he viewed in much the same light as Lord Voldemort himself, although substantially less powerful.

While it may have seemed rather foolish to seek out battle at night, there was a purpose to it: at that time, with curfew fast approaching (there was currently only five minutes before it, and the Carrows had stepped up on their punishments), there would be few students roaming the corridors. Thus, it would be less likely for students to get caught up in the crossfire than if they had attacked at tea time, for example.

There was a none-too-subtle sense of vindication to it all, especially with the nearly full moon illuminating the darkened sky of the late October evening. Added to that was the date: Halloween, or Samhain, October 31, exactly sixteen years after Harry's first defeat of Voldemort – and the loss of his parents, which many forgot about when faced with his fame.

Each group consisted of six to eight people, with two Witches staying at home: Nymphadora Tonks and Amelia Bones, both of which were pregnant (Sirius had been extremely happy and proud, but also somewhat disappointed that he had been unable to send his lover and soon-to-be fiancée into an orgasmic coma) when they had made the decision.

Now, Tonks was taking care of her week-old son, Teddy Jr. They had lost a dozen or so of their members, including John Dawlish during the course of their raids and counter-attacks.

Harry's group was made up of him and the rest of his 'Inner Circle': Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Susan Bones, Neville Longbottom, Tracey Davis, Hannah Abbot, and Blaise Zabini.

Sirius and Remus had originally been against letting such a young team with so little experience on their own against such a dangerous enemy, but they had eventually been persuaded to understand the Inner Circle's side. They were most comfortable around each other, and could fight very fluidly together. Also, the eight of them could easily handle Carrow and, if Lady Luck permitted, Prewitt. Finally, after participating in multiple raids each, they could hardly be considered inexperienced.

Eventually, it was the hormonal, pregnant women who managed to change the two Marauders' minds.

The Gryffindor Group, as they called themselves, led by Sirius Black himself, crept up the Tower towards the Gryffindor Commons Room. Another advantage of being on the same side as Hogwarts and its Professors was that they knew all of the passwords: "Pygmy Puff Power," Sirius said, questioning the sanity of whoever picked these codes.

Considering that it was probably McGonagall or Prewitt, that may well have been very accurate.

The Lions, tired as they were, offered very little resistance against them. The most notable exception had been Lavender Brown, who had tried to lead her own mini-revolution against Sirius' ranks. While somewhat brave, it was foolish, and it had been a grinning Parvati Patil, who had appeared from out of nowhere, that put her former friend down like the dog she had become.

The Lord Black had been somewhat disappointed – not in the Gryffindor's in general for turning to the Dark, but that Prewitt had been absent during their quick attack. Perhaps it was for the best, as he knew that Harry wanted to have words with his former best friend.

The Slytherin Sleuths, led by the three Black sisters, expected to face the most resistance. As a result, they had been very surprised when they barely had to engage in a scuffle. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had attempted to fight, but the Blacks had enjoyed stamping out the pathetic excuses for Slytherins.

Once they arrived, Lily Moon and a few others had run and managed to escape, so the Order knew that they had to work quickly, before they called for reinforcements.

The other groups were called the Hufflepuff Humdingers (Harry had suggested the idea. When he got strange looks, he merely smiled sadly and described them as "oft to blither") and Rowena's Rescuers (they had vetoed Hannah's suggestion of anything to do with Rapunzel). The groups in charge of the Carrow siblings had opted to go without a name, being led by Emmeline Vance and Harry, and dealing with Amycus and Alecto, respectively.

The guerrilla-style attacks on Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw continued much the same as those on Gryffindor and Slytherin, with few Death Eaters escaping and no Order members dying. The students that survived and bore the Dark Mark were Bound and Stunned, before being moved to the second floor bathroom that unofficially belonged to Moaning Myrtle.

Either Harry or Blaise would open the Chamber of Secrets, and they would place their prisoners there until the battle was won. They would then be sentenced to either a stint in Azkaban or a merry trip through the Veil, their punishment dependent on the severity of their Veritaserum-induced confessions.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry and the rest of his Inner Circle were walking towards the third largest office in the School, after the Headmaster's Office and that of the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was normally occupied by Minerva McGonagall, as it was traditionally the Transfiguration office, but it had been granted to Alecto Carrow that year.

Two young adults stood on every side of the wooden door: to the left, right, and centre, with the final two standing a ways down the corridor, acting as sentries and back up.

Susan waved her wand around the door for a moment, and frowned. "Is she that arrogant that she did not put up a single ward? I feel ... offended, to be honest."

Harry shook his head at her exasperatedly yet fondly, and whispered to the portrait of a Witch standing on top of a pile of Muggles and House-Elves, "Listen; when I say the pass code, I want you to unlock, but _stay closed_, okay?"

The green-skinned Witch frowned suspiciously but nodded, so Harry uttered the password, hoping that Snape had it right. The locks whirred and clicked gently, and Daphne gave him an amused look. "Why didn't you just open it?"

Harry shrugged, before smirking. "Because I've always wanted to do this." That being said, he stepped forward, and without giving them any time to stop him, he lashed forward with his right leg, completely tearing the door off of its hinges.

Neville had once told him that accidentally catching Hermione and Ron going at it was the most mentally scarring thing he had ever seen. As the new Lord Longbottom was patrolling the corridor with Tracey, he could safely say that he had one-upped him, or perhaps two or three-upped him. He definitely felt like gouging his eyes out.

Prewitt was there - he wore absolutely nothing except for a spiked chain around his neck that was Magically joined to the wall opposite of him. Alecto was also in the nude, and she bent before him, roughly caressing his Little Ron (emphasis on _Little. _Susan and Hannah did not even try to hide their snickers).

Harry's face had turned green from nausea, and he was sure that Draco and Blaise were experiencing the same effects. He flicked his wand into his hand in one fluid motion and Banished Alecto into the wall, before a Cutting Curse from Draco to her throat finished her off quickly and painlessly.

She wasn't their main target.

Evidently she had cast the Charm on the chain, as Ron was suddenly free, for all of two seconds before Daphne had Stuck him to a wall.

His death would be a bit slower, and maybe a tad more painful.

The four girls – Tracey and Neville had joined them when their mini-scuffle had started – walked towards him slowly. Daphne transformed her right index finger into a long black claw.

The claw pierced his upper torso as she dragged it down his chest, eliciting a small stream of blood, before she stopped just below his belly button. The four girls grinned at him with menacing glints to their eyes. The four boys turned around, waiting for the screams.

"We've heard some odd rumours about what you and your friends get up to at night," Tracey hissed, letting a few claws appear on her hand.

Ron gulped.

* * *

The forty or so Order members met up by the second floor bathroom. It held such great memories for Harry: fighting a basilisk, watching Hermione make Polyjuice Potion while she told him and Ron what to do, getting flirted with by an emotional ghost ... He hated this bathroom.

They were accompanied by over two dozen Death Eaters, all of which were marked. Zacharias Smith had a red handprint on his face from when Susan slapped him, and Blaise and Harry were conversing in Parseltongue about Who-Knows-What, and Hannah and Daphne were quietly talking about trying to learn Parseltongue.

Finally, the last group arrived. Despite the torture the girls had put Ron through, they had still been one of the first groups back due to the ease with which they dispatched Alecto.

"Is everyone okay?" Sirius asked, fussing over Harry, who swatted him away.

"Clearly," Draco drawled, channelling his inner Malfoy. Sirius glared at him and did a quick head count to make sure that no one was missing.

Harry walked towards the massive sink and located the faucet with a snake engraved on it. "Open," he hissed, startling a few who were nearby but had never hear him speak the noble language of serpents before.

As a wide, gaping chasm appeared in place of the sink, Order members began frogmarching the Junior Death Eaters forward towards it. They then pushed the Bound students down the slide, accompanied with the occasional crash and groans.

"Should we have put a Cushioning Charm there?" Neville asked, all traces of the meek boy from first to fourth years gone.

Blaise simply stared at him.

* * *

Lilith Moon, or as her friends called her, Lily, was quite proud of her name. In mythology, Lilith was the name of the female demon that abducted and murdered young children, so she felt that by torturing the young students of Hogwarts, she made her namesake proud.

She was a seventh year Slytherin who had let her jealousy of girls such as Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis – who had Merlin-given bodies, while her chest was as flat as a board – control her.

When the Slytherin Common Room had opened, she had risen to her feet, ready to scold and punish the perpetrator, as it was after curfew. However, her sense of survival allowed her to hide behind a tapestry as the adults walked in. She ducked past them and sprinted down the corridors to the Entrance Hall and removed her wand.

She placed the tip against her forearm, where the Dark Lord's tattoo, the Dark Mark, was imprinted. There was a euphoric surge of pain throughout her body as the Dark Lord's Magic responded to hers, informing her that he would be on his way.

She smiled to herself as a few other Junior Death Eaters joined her: apparently, it had been an organized attack on all four houses.

"Where in Morgana's name are Professors Carrow and Carrow?" a Ravenclaw escapee asked.

She stared at the boy for a moment. "If this attack has been as well organized as it seems, I would have to say that we're on our own until our Lord appears."

* * *

The Chamber of Secrets had been locked with the remaining Junior Death Eaters within. With luck, they would descend into anarchy and kill each other. Perhaps they would use the remaining basilisk fangs, as their wands had been snapped in half.

The Order of the Phoebe had amassed all of the students in fifth year or above, waiting for a fight. The younger students had all been safely locked up in their towers, as they suspected that Hogsmeade would be the first stop that Voldemort would attack.

Some of the defenders of Hogwarts rushed towards the window as a great burst of flame appeared in the direction of Hogsmeade. It was followed shortly thereafter by a green skull with a snake in place of a tongue making an appearance against the black sky. It was as though it was trying to block out the light of the Moon.

Harry sighed at the ignorance of the students as they made a spectacle of the Dark Mark. At least he had dissuaded McGonagall from sending the younger kids down to the village.

McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick were walking around, waving their wands and setting up a serious of complex wards to protect the castle. It would not permanently block Voldemort, but it would hold him long enough to get their forces ready. If Lady Luck was with them, he may even tire himself out enough that Harry could stand a chance.

Harry tucked a basilisk fang into his belt, careful to keep the tip pointing away from him. It would be a serious no-no if it pierced through the fabric of his trousers and poisoned him, as he wasn't sure whether or not he had remained immune to it's venom after the events of second year.

The Order of the Phoebe were all dressed in comfortable clothes. They were tight enough that they wouldn't become annoying or a possible weakness, but still loose enough to possess full manoeuvrability.

This caused the students to get more disparaging looks, as they were dressed in bulky cloaks that provided a larger target for enemies. Those who did not wore heavy Quidditch uniforms. Rather than blocking friendly or unfriendly spell fire, it would simply weigh them down, further inhibiting them.

The best material to use, though no one had any, would have been armour made from Acromantula silk, but there were very few English stores that held the valuable material. Those that did were either closed or were under harsh scrutiny from the Dark Lord.

While some would encourage the use of dragon or basilisk skin for body armour, it would likely weigh them down, as only the scales of the Chinese Fireball would be yielding enough to remain logical. Materials such as the hide of a basilisk, Ukrainian Ironbelly, and Hungarian Horntail, while capable of shielding against most Curses, would add several hundred pounds onto their back.

The fang was properly tucked into the belt, so Harry looked towards his Inner Circle and coughed to get their attention.

"Remember that our number one priority is the snake, Nagini," he said. "Without her dead, Tom is still immortal, as far as I know."

The Inner Circle made sure that their fangs were present, and Sirius twirled the sword of Godric Gryffindor, nearly beheading Remus Lupin.

"Watch yourself, Padfoot!" Lupin cautioned, carefully removing the sword from his hand.

Severus Snape was pacing around, brushing his greasy hair behind his ear. Unsurprisingly, he was nervous about his identity as a spy being revealed.

Amos Diggory, who was the Head of the Department of Magical Creatures in the Ministry of Magic, led a small regiment of co-workers, Rubeus Hagrid, and several adult Wizards and Witches. They were prepared to take on Magical Creatures such as trolls, giants, and Acromantula. Grawp sat down in a corner, playing with a blue Ford Anglia that Arthur Weasley stared suspiciously at.

No one was quite sure who the centaurs supported, or whether or not they would aid that side. When asked, they simply said, "Mars is especially bright tonight."

All that anyone, even Professor Trelawney, could derive from that was that a battle was coming, as Mars was the Roman god of War.

"I really hope we don't have to worry about dragons or basilisks," Narcissa said. "Or chimera, or a Nundu, or an Occamy, or-"

Andromeda cut her sister off with a stern glare as several younger students in hearing range gulped noticeably. They started looking around them, as though a massive Nundu would appear any moment.

The blonde haired Black laughed nervously. "Sorry, I'm sure that Vold- Er, You-Know-Who," she corrected herself as the students winced. One seemed like he was about to lose control over his bladder. Continuing normally, she said, "Wouldn't even be able to tame any of those beasts. If he did bring any, they would be liable to turn against him instead of work for him. Well, technically, he could control the Occamy probably, because he speaks Parseltongue, but they would be so far out of their natural territory of India that they would be nowhere near as dangerous. Of course, they could still kill any one of you with ease, but ... you get the point."

She trailed off awkwardly before walking away, a hand raking through her hair nervously.

"Sorry," Andromeda said to the teenagers. "When she gets nervous she rambles."

The students nodded at her, shakily accepting her apology, though one Ravenclaw, the student from before, had a distinct patch of urine showing through his trousers.

Andromeda almost giggled as he ran away, though to where, she knew not, as all of the Common Rooms had been locked.

Bella elbowed Harry in the gut. "Make a speech," she said out of the corner of her mouth.

"What?" he asked, bemused. He was still rather surprised that no one had batted an eye at her or Sirius.

"Inspire them," she answered. "They need someone – you – to rally behind, to make them believe that they can win."

"Er … right. Inspiration, I can do that," Harry muttered to himself. He coughed loudly, gaining everyone's attention.

"Er ... so, yeah. Sixteen years ago today, the man who fashioned the name 'Lord Voldemort' tried to kill a toddler and his parents. He failed to kill the toddler, so, er … if he couldn't kill me then, how could he do it now?"

The entire Great Hall stared at him, before Seamus Finnegan stepped out from nowhere. "That was beautiful," he said, wiping an imaginary tear out of his eye as he clapped slowly.

"Where've you been, Finnegan?" Harry asked his old roommate.

"With us," a male voice said, before Terry Boot stepped out of the shadows. He had an eye patch over one eye and a scar down his cheek. Behind him was a small army of sixth and seventh years, including the Patil sisters and Dean Thomas. "I hope we're welcome here?" he asked, spreading his arms widely in a gesture of surrender.

"Of course," Harry began with a smile, before a dome appeared around the school; orange flashes were present along its surface, resulting from spells colliding with it.

"What's happening?" a student asked.

Blaise turned toward her, a solemn look on his face.

"We're under attack."

* * *

Lord Voldemort continued sending a barrage of powerful, mainly Dark spells at the shield. It was beginning to crack visibly, and he could see Fenrir Greyback and his pack eagerly awaiting the moment to attack.

"Will you stop pacing already and do something productive?" he snapped as the footsteps continued. Suddenly, the came to a halt close by, and without even turning around, he knew exactly who it was.

"Not until I find out where my son is!" Molly Prewitt answered just as coldly. She cowered as her Lord turned his glare at her.

"Listen and listen well, you stubborn bitch," he scolded. She went to interrupt him, but he backhanded her, causing her to fall. "Your stupid son went and got himself killed, clearly – either that, or he got cold feet and switched sides. Either way, I could not care less where your idiotic kid is."

She moved to argue, her maternal instincts welling up inside her, but he flicked his arm, his wand coming to stop in front of her head. Without giving her a moment to think, he said, "Obliviate!"

He withdrew every memory that included her youngest children. All he left her with was the feeling that she had been wronged by the Potter brat and the urge to do whatever her Lord said.

"Of course, Master," she answered to some command that she thought he had given. She then started sending moderately powerful Curses at the shield. Nodding to himself, he joined in on the fun.

It did not take long for the shield to break, and his forces began to flood into Hogwarts.

Giants, werewolves, vampires, Acromantula, trolls, a few ogres, and his Death Eaters were together, ending the Boy-Who-Lived once and for all.

Nagini slid around his bare feet, hissing in glee at the idea of fresh meet. Perhaps he would let her devour Potter in front of the Wizarding World.

Yes, that would definitely break their spirits.

* * *

Harry soon found himself back to back with Draco. They were surrounded by several Junior Death Eaters, but they ended their lives quickly.

Lumbering footsteps sounded across the corridor in which they stood. They dove to avoid a chandelier that fell where they stood, knocked off of it's holder by the echoing footsteps.

Minerva had told him, back in first year, that the Mountain Troll that he had faced was a fully grown adult. If that was the case, then the troll in front of them must have been it's mother's mother, as its grotesque head was very close to the extremely high ceiling. It was clearly female, as he doubted that a male would have worn a piece of cloth on their chest.

For what may well have been the first time in his life, Harry approved of the invention of clothes for females (technically, it was when he met his 'Aunt' Marge, but that was unimportant).

"Merlin's saggy left-" Draco's expletive was cut off as the Troll swung its club the size of a small oak tree, opening up a gaping hole in the wall.

Another swing hit Daphne full on; her back had been turned as she was in the middle of a vicious duel with Lily Moon. Harry felt his inner panther make itself known, wanting to kill the Troll for damaging his Mate.

A smirk found its way on to Harry's lips despite Daphne's condition. He was certain that she had Cushioning Charms on her clothes. The Troll began to swing its club again, only to become confused as it floated away from it. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Draco snorted in amusement at Harry's choice of spells, until the club's striking end began to sharpen, spikes appearing along it. A bead of perspiration trailed down the side of Harry's face at the force of such a large-scale Transfiguration.

The Troll scratched its head stupidly as its own club swung at it, clubbing it in the end. The spikes embedded themselves into it's skull as it toppled over, forming a dent in the ground. A dull grey liquid leaked out of its head.

"Huh," Harry commented, stepping towards it. "Trolls do have brains."

Draco stared, dumfounded, as Harry walked towards Daphne to ensure that she was in good health. She stood to her feet shakily, but pressed a firm, passionate kiss against Harry's lips.

"My saviour," she quipped, a mixture of fondness and sarcasm.

Susan walked towards the celebrating trio. "Er, guys?" she asked, before pointing.

What was once a gaping hole in the wall was now a hole in the wall with an Acromantula colony filtering their way through.

"Godric's gonads!" Harry swore. "What now?"

The four exchanged looks before, as one, they turned and ran from the Acromantula colony, hoping that Hagrid could come to an agreement with them.

* * *

It was well past midnight before Voldemort's troops withdrew. Harry would have thought that they had dominated, as they had substantially less losses than the Death Eaters had, but then Voldemort had entered the fray.

He had not fought for long; he had walked in, killed a bunch of students and Order members, making sure to kill Severus, before leaving. There was one advantage to his appearance, of course: Nagini had come with him.

Remus had leapt at the serpent and brought the sword of Godric Gryffindor down upon its neck. The emerald scales had glimmered in the moonlight and Voldemort had screamed in frustration as the head was separated from the rest of the body.

Unfortunately, Remus' success was short-lived, as Molly Prewitt had caught him with a Cutting Curse to his back and Fenrir Greyback tore his throat out.

That was when Voldemort had withdrawn, as he was clearly intelligent enough to know that he and Harry were on even footing. He would want whatever advantage he could get.

Harry walked around the courtyard with Daphne, hand in hand as he scuffed his sneakers against the rubble. The Acromantula colony had killed Hagrid, but Grawp had smashed them underfoot, effectively ending that threat. He had also dealt with one of the four giants, before being taken down by another.

The Troll that Harry had defeated had clearly been the matriarch of the clan, as the rest had dispersed into the Forbidden Forest, apparently confused as to how they would continue without her.

Harry noticed Parvati and Seamus kneeling next to Dean's body, blood trickling from his mouth. Terry was consoling Padma a few feet away. He could hear Parvati's sobs, and wondered when they had started a relationship.

Harry stepped towards them, and Parvati looked up, a haunted look in her eyes. "I saw this in a Muggle medical magazine," she said. "Something about a heightened state of alertness," she murmured.

Harry's fears that she had gone insane were proved correct as she grabbed Dean's left hand and placed it against her right breast. When he continued to be dead, she somehow removed her bra without taking her shirt off, and put his hand up her shirt.

Seamus murmured something; Harry wasn't sure, but he thought it was, "Even in death, the lucky bastard. Luck of the Irish, my arse."

Harry looked on sadly as Parvati went further and further in her attempts to waken Dean by arousing his corpse, until he and Daphne walked on. The last thing he heard was the Indian girl muttering, "He always said he wanted to try anal."

He looked at Daphne thoughtfully. "At what point is that considered necrophilia?"

Daphne glared at him, before gasping. A quick Banishing Charm sent Fenrir into a wall. She then Transfigured a series of rubble pieces into silver spikes, before Banishing them at the werewolf.

"Astoria!" she cried as she ran towards her younger sister. "Are you alright?"

The darker haired sister glared playfully. "Absolutely stunning, my dear sister," she said dryly, before pulling up her pant leg, to reveal a bite mark on her thigh.

As Daphne fussed over her now-werewolf sister, Fred – or was it George? – ran to Harry.

"Harry!" he said, choking back a sob. "Charlie ... we lost him." His message given, the twin fell to the ground, exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Harry left Daphne with her sister, saying that he would bring Forge to his family, and console Sirius.

'Salazar's semen; what about Tonks and Teddy Jr.?' he cursed mentally. He had been named the Godfather of their son, as they had agreed that Sirius would corrupt him too much.

It had been obvious that they had just wanted a family for Harry.

Remus lay close to Charlie, the Weasleys and Blacks mourning nearby. Sirius was howling in anguish as Narcissa massaged his shoulders gently.

Suddenly, the voice of Tom Marvolo Riddle filled the school.

"Hello, citizens of Magical Britain! My name is Lord Voldemort - you might have heard of me. I must admit, you have fought bravely, and displayed courage and mental fortitude, the likes of which I have never seen before. Not even, unfortunately, from my own Death Eaters.

"But back on topic: this madness need not continue any further. All I require is Harry Potter. Give me Harry Potter, and we can settle this matter peacefully.

"Now, Harry Potter, I speak directly to-"

He was cut off as Harry cast the Sonorus Charm on himself. "Do you want to speak directly to me, Tommy? Then meet me as a man, or whatever you are, one against one, Mano e Mano. Me against you in front of everyone.

"Is that not what you want: a crowd to watch your greatest triumph? Your devices have all been destroyed; you are as mortal as I and everyone else is. If you want to talk to me, to my face ... I'll be waiting in the courtyard."

Harry ended his Charm to see everyone staring at him. Some stared in awe; some in disbelief (Bella asked, "He couldn't have made a speech like that before?"); Daphne and his Inner Circle glared at him.

"What was that all about?" Susan asked, her arms crossed under her chest.

"Exactly what I said," Harry answered calmly, unaffected by her cross expression. "I'm sick and tired of people that I care for dying for me, and the only way to end that is to kill Tom once and for all."

Daphne sighed at her stubborn husband. Though he was not her husband by law, nor even her fiancée, that was how she thought of him. "Fine, but I'm your second."

Harry shook his head. "Yeah, no," he answered. "You will be taking care of Tori, and Draco will be my second."

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Sirius asked.

"No, you're just a sausage," Harry replied, causing sniggers and a pout from his Godfather.

"That wasn't even that funny," Sirius complained quietly.

"Alright," Daphne conceded. Harry had known that she would want to take care of her baby sister. "But if you survive, you're sleeping on the couch for a month."

"I don't know if the couch is big enough for the both of us," he quipped, causing her to blush as he called her bluff.

* * *

Lord Voldemort led his depleted army to the Hogwarts courtyard. Harry was waiting for him, glaring at Molly and him in turn, and ignoring the other two dozen remaining Death Eaters.

Voldemort laughed maniacally.

Harry yawned. "Okay, now that that totally obligatory evil laugh is over with-"

Voldemort interrupted him. "What? That wasn't obligatory! I just laughed because you can't spell slaughter without laughter!" He laughed again.

Harry's brow furrowed in mock confusion. "Wait, wait, wait ... So does that mean that you think that all humans are overweight sea creatures, since you can't spells humanity without manatee?"

"That isn't how it-"

"Phonetically!" Harry added hurriedly.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort replied, but a boulder appeared in front of the jet of green light.

Molly, noticing the distraction, pointed her wand at Harry, but Bella muttered to herself, "Not my cousin, you bitch! Avada Kedavra!"

Molly Prewitt fell to the ground, unable to cast the spell which would have killed the Boy-Who-Lived.

The courtyard fell into anarchy as foes began to fight each other. Emmeline Vance killed a German wizard, who was descended from Grindelwald, and Daphne finally killed Lily Moon, after ensuring Tori's safety.

The remaining Death Eaters began to fall at a rapid pace, and the storm of spells and the darkness of the night sky allowed Harry the cover to begin a long, complicated series of wand movements and incantations.

As the dust finally cleared, Voldemort found himself alone, with over fifty opponents. He was about to Apparate away, when he heard Harry's voice finishing a spell in an unknown language.

"Ymene en ihtn wodet imsroh tfore wop taerg e ht gnisu, ero fereht!"

The Hammer of Thor came down upon the earth for the first time in millennia in the form of a giant lightning bolt that smote down Voldemort.

All that was left was a badly charred body. Just to make sure, Harry prodded the corpse with his foot. "Avada Kedavra!"

Now, he felt confident that Voldemort was dead.

He wavered from the Magical exhaustion, but was still able to silently summon the box that was in Potter Manor.

Daphne held him up, a wide smile gracing her features.

"One other thing, Daph," he murmured. He fell to one knee as the box landed in his hand. He popped open the box, and was about to say 'Will you do me the eternal favour of taking me as your husband?' but fainted partway through.

Instead, all he got was, "Will you do me?"

"Yes," Daphne muttered, tears coming down her cheeks.

Blaise looked confused. "I thought he had to sleep on the couch now?"

The others chuckled as they knelt down to check on Harry. In the distance, the Sun was on the horizon.

It was a new day.

* * *

**A/N: **I guess this is the part where I make excuses for the time between chapters: Boy Meets World marathon.

**Thanks**: With next chapter being the real epilogue (how many people thought that this was it?), I just really wanted to thank every single one of you for following this story, even back when the chapters where 2000 words.

**Epilogue**: Not sure when I'll have it finished, but I want to have the first chapter (at least) of my next story already done by then. Hopefully by the end of August. It depends on how much Boy Meets World is on, honestly.

**Thor's Hammer**: For those of you wanting to know what it says, the key to decoding it is Dumbledore's socks.

**Highlight Death Real:** Because I'm so morbid, here's a list of everyone killed in this story, including important characters from this chapter whose deaths were not mentioned:

Theodore Nott Jr.; Pansy Parkinson; Rudolphus Lestrange; Rabastan Lestrange; Albus Dumbledore; Luna Lovegood; Katie Bell; Fay Dunbar; Su Li; Mandy Brocklehurst; Hermione Granger; Ginevra; Albert Runcorn; Theodore Nott Sr.; Antonín Dolohov; Alecto Carrow; Ron Prewitt; Amycus Carrow; Gregory Goyle; Vincent Crabbe; Lavender Brown; John Dawlish; Ted Tonks; Severus Snape; Thorfinn Rowle; Filius Flitwick; Mama Troll; Baragog the Spider; Rubeus Hagrid; Grawp the Friendly Giant; Barnabus the Unfriendly Giant; Dean Thomas; Remus Lupin; Charlie Weasley; Molly Prewitt; and Lord Voldemort (Peter Pettigrew would be thrown the veil a week later after the declaration of Sirius' innocence).

Damn, that was more than I expected.

**Wizard Swears:** Just because I'm sure that the feminists out there will be upset because all of the curses revolve around male genitalia, I wanted to point out that the Wizards use ancient Wizards to swear, while Witches would have used ancient Witches' names. For example, Hannah or Tracey might have said "Circe's slit!" or "Medea's menopause!"

**Lupin**: Also, I'm sure people hate me for this, but it was either him or Sirius. I tried to keep to the canon Battle as much as I could.

**Review**: How was the final battle scene? Let me know that and your opinions on their occupations in eleven years (in my story, Harry doesn't wait seven years to knock his wife up. He might not even wait seven days).


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